


The River is Everywhere: Part One

by beers4fears



Series: The River is Everywhere [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bounty Hunters, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Naked Female Clothed Male, No seriously a lot of feelings, Oral Sex, POV Third Person, Past Abuse, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Season/Series 01, Revenge, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:28:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22267927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beers4fears/pseuds/beers4fears
Summary: The Mandalorian rarely had bounties that struck him like this. He usually had no problems disassociating from the ones who made him feel pangs of remorse, or empathy, or any other uncomfortable emotion; he’d just throw them in carbonite and be done with it.But he was out of carbonite, and she was… something else.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The River is Everywhere [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680811
Comments: 69
Kudos: 276





	1. Bounty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After reading an obscene amount of Mando fics on here, I decided to write my own. This is my first work published on AO3, so be gentle.
> 
> CW for Chapter 1: There is a flashback of physical and sexual abuse in a previous relationship. Our poor girl really went through it with her ex.

The air was thick with smog. It draped over the buildings like a heavy veil, hanging stagnant in the streets in this suffocating summer humidity.

Her hair clung to the side of her neck as he bit down.

“ _Fuck—,”_ she shuddered, choking out a breath.

The alley was still and quiet, seemingly amplifying the sounds of his cock slamming up into her against the dirty wall.

She’d just learned his name. Tattoos swirled around his arms and chest, covering him completely, even down to the scabbed knuckles of his fists. His tongue tasted like cheap whiskey and t’bac when she swirled hers around it.

Or maybe that was her tongue. Regardless.

Back inside the cantina, he pretended she didn’t exist, like he hadn’t just gutted her like a fucking fish outside the bar. He retreated back to his group of friends, laughing and roughhousing around a tattered old booth, while she floundered and shot him confused looks from across the room.

Was he really gonna just fuck her and forget about it?

Anger, and maybe a little rejection, stirred in the pit of her stomach.

She chased him outside after he left.

“Hey, asshole!” she yelled, crossing her arms over her chest. The cantina’s red neon sign looked fuzzy through the polluted haze, its light getting trapped and diffused by the impossibly dense air.

He stopped in his tracks and pivoted towards her. 

“Are you just gonna —”

The crash of his lips cut her off, severing the tail end of her question. It was less a kiss and more a total assault, a collision of teeth and tongue.

“Come back here tomorrow,” he said into her mouth, gripping the base of her skull.

She pulled away, unsure whether she wanted to slap him or take him home. His eyes travelled up and down the column of her neck.

“I’m too busy to give you a proper fuck tonight,” he concluded, placing one final, violent peck on her lips.

His teeth glinted in the scattered red light as he walked back towards his friends.

———

It had taken way too long to track her. There was no star port, no industrial center, no population density on this shithole planet, floating at the very edge of the Outer Rim. But even the most remote skug holes had cantinas...

And that’s where he found her.

He rolled his shoulders back and took the puck out of his belt pouch.

“Mesa Lawson,” he said, illuminating it and placing it beside her. “Come with me willingly, and you won’t get hurt.”

The Mandalorian sidled up to the bar beside her, the glow of the puck casting a kaleidoscope of blue across his beskar armor. She watched a face - _her face_ \- rotate slowly in the small holoprojection.

Her real name, one she hadn’t used in nearly a year, was displayed in large block letters. It was being spoken out loud by his modulated voice, so even and controlled that it sent a shiver down her spine.

She had a feeling she’d be found one day. Just not like this.

Her eyes flickered to the blaster he’d unholstered from his hip. It was pointed almost lazily at her, like she wasn’t even a threat.

 _How the fuck did he afford a bounty hunter?_ she thought.

The armored man took her trembling wrists and bound them with his heavy manacles. Big, round eyes looked up to his helmet as she swallowed back the tears already pooling along her lower lashes. The top curve of the T-shaped visor dipped down, looking absolutely menacing without even trying, like “menacing” was its default state.

This was it. The peace she’d found, hiding away on this backwater rock, was slipping through her fingers.

“River?”

Her companion rounded the corner from the refresher, as fear and shock twisted across his face at the scene unfolding at the bar.

“She’s coming with me,” the bounty hunter asserted. He knew about her moniker, a clue he’d uncovered as he followed disappointing lead after disappointing lead across the galaxy.

The bar patrons watched in awe as the silver figure dragged her out of the dark cantina and into the moonlit field outside. Her friend made no moves to stop them.

River’s heart was beating so hard and fast that everything became difficult - breathing, standing upright, walking across the dusty plain to the Mandalorian’s ship. Her vision blurred at the edges.

No one was going to help her. She’d felt this before. It was a familiar, lonely kind of panic.

Carbon scoring marred the silver sides of the spacecraft like battle scars. From his vambrace, the Mandalorian opened the ramp of the ship and stood to face his quarry.

“Do you have any weapons on you?”

Stars, that voice. Modulated and direct, with a quality she couldn’t quite place. She shook her head and stared at his boots, unwilling to look her captor in the eyes through the narrow viewfinder of his helmet.

“Don’t lie to me,” he insisted.

Her stomach twisted into a knot. She didn’t go anywhere without her blade, not anymore. Giving it up now, when she had already given up _everything_ , was too much to bear.

Her gaze lifted to the T of his helmet. As if he could read her mind, the Mandalorian ran his gloved palms against the sides of her brown utility pants, searching for anything he’d need to confiscate.

She shook in place, blinking back the heavy tears she’d been fighting since the cantina. His fingers fanned over the expanse of her outer thighs, sweeping downwards more and more and more until—

“I have a knife,” she said. The words came out even and steady despite the tremble in her chest.

The Mandalorian paused at the tops of her boots.

“It’s in my back pocket.”

River exhaled a shaky breath. All of her defenses were being stripped - her hiding place, her alias, her weapon.

She was so tired of running away. Her confession and surrender felt like dropping an unwieldy load, but it didn’t make her feel any better. Heaviness still pulled at her shoulders, throwing her off-balance.

The bounty hunter reached back, dipping his hand into the pocket of her pants. Her jaw steeled, set like stone, as he fluidly lifted the switchblade out and studied it in his palm. She braced herself, expecting some sort of punishment for withholding this information, but was relieved when the man calmly placed it in his pouch with the puck.

“Anything else you want to tell me about?”

She shook her head, nervously tapping the toes of her boots together in the dry grass and dirt. 

“Follow me.” He cocked his head up the ramp as she fell in step behind him. Rows of other bounties, frozen in carbonite, lined the wall to her right.

She stared in open-mouthed shock as sweat pricked her palms. Their faces were gnarled into contorted grimaces, so pronounced she could practically hear their cries.

This was not happening, not to her, no _kriffing_ way.

“You’re in luck,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m low on carbonite — and space.”

River shuddered, thoughts careening over what the alternative could possibly be. The bounty hunter began climbing up a ladder, pausing halfway up to look down at her.

“Come up here.”

She knit her brows together and looked at her bound hands.

“I — I don’t think I can climb that in these.” She raised her wrists up and gave him a conciliatory look.

The Mandalorian’s shoulders sank in an inaudible sigh. He knew better than to do this, but something about the way her round eyes bore into him made him feel like he could trust her. _Maybe._ At the very least, she looked to be easily subdued.

The floor shook as he leapt off the ladder and unlocked her restraints. Before she could move an inch, he tightly wrapped his hands around her wrists in warning.

“Don’t try anything cute,” he said. He could’ve snapped her arms like twigs if he wanted to. “My pay doesn’t change if I bring you in hurt.”

She swallowed thickly.

“Got it?” He drew her wrists towards him in emphasis. The coolness of beskar armor sent goosebumps streaming up her forearms. Being this close to him was unnerving in a way that she couldn’t describe, like staring over the edge of a canyon’s ledge.

She nodded, and followed him up the ladder into the ship’s cockpit.

“Sit there,” he commanded, pointing to a chair just behind the pilot’s seat.

Her shaking hands folded neatly in her lap, trying to project compliance, as she settled into the chair. The Mandalorian warmed the engines, flicking switches and engaging pre-flight protocols as she watched him. His hands deftly travelled along the console as he moved through this well-practiced routine.

To him, she was just another job. A paycheck. A way to keep the kid fed.

To her, this Mandalorian was ushering her straight to hell.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked. She already knew the answer, but didn’t want to believe it.

“Nar Shaddaa,” he answered flatly.

Hearing it out loud made it real. A hot, angry tear rolled down her cheek as she exhaled a pained breath. She stared down at her hands, trying to keep herself from sobbing.

Nar Shaddaa. Back to the criminal underworld she fled. Back to the monster she escaped from.

A steady stream of three beeps rang through the cockpit, signaling that the Razor Crest was ready for takeoff. She should’ve been kicking and screaming. She should’ve been trying to claw her way out of this ship until her fingers bled.

She didn’t have it in her anymore.

River picked her head up to get one last wistful glimpse of the planet that had been her haven.

She startled when she saw the Mandalorian turned around in his chair, staring at her. His movements were as fluid as water and eerily silent. The quantity of frozen bounties in the ship’s cargo bay made sense now. He was clearly very successful in catching people unaware.

River and the hunter stayed like that for a beat - unmoving and silent, appraising each other. She had no idea what he was thinking or feeling. His broad chest and shoulders seemed to barely even move with his breath. The armor concealed all.

The Mandalorian saw a woman in silent agony. Young, with long jet black hair spilling across her forehead and down her back like a cloak she tried hiding behind. One big brown eye was partially obscured. She looked different than she had on the puck - darker, with eyes that could cut just as much as they could bring men to their knees.

“I have to go to Vardos first to deliver a quarry.”

She bristled. He noticed the lights of the cockpit glinting in her wet eyes.

“Vardos? That’s on the other side of the galaxy.”

The bounty hunter tilted his helmet towards her.

“So is Nar Shaddaa,” he quipped and turned back to the ship’s main console.

The Razor Crest rumbled as the thrusters carried them off the planet’s surface, pushing past the grey clouds and up into the vast blackness of open space. With a few more adjustments on the console, the Mandalorian throttled the ship into hyperspeed as the stars stretched ahead of them.

Her breath was uneven. Reality was setting in.

“How long are we traveling for?” She tried not to sound as desperate as she felt.

The Mandalorian spun his chair around again in the cramped cockpit, bumping her shin by accident.

“It’s about 48 hours of hyperspace travel from here to Vardos. I’ll have to stop for fuel at some point.”

That could be River’s window of opportunity. In a busy spaceport, she could easily slip out of the craft while he was distracted and blend in with the crowd. She didn’t care where they stopped or where she ended up. She just couldn’t go back to Nar Shaddaa.

River took in a breath to try and steady her voice again.

“Who placed this bounty?” she asked. Her eyes were blasting away at him like plasma cannons.

The Mandalorian shuffled, pulling the puck out of his pouch again. He activated it and scrolled to the order details.

“Rhet Tozer.” He peeked past the holofeed at her.

River nodded slowly, nearly expressionless, as tears welled once more. She looked away and caught her shaking lower lip between her teeth.

The Mandalorian watched her. He wasn’t supposed to ask questions. He wasn’t supposed to feel pity. Plenty of bounties had cried before, bargained with him, begged for their lives and freedom. He never let any of the blubbery get to him.

But River was affecting him. He could sense her calmness and her chaos, like a deceptively calm sea with wild, ripping currents hidden beneath the surface. He felt a pull behind the hard plates of his cuirass, a feeling he couldn’t place.

He put the puck away. “You know him.”

It was meant to be a question, but didn’t come out as one. Of course she knew him. Who puts out a bounty on a stranger? The Mandalorian cursed himself silently for asking such a thing.

River barked a laugh, bringing a hand up to swipe away tears with the back of her wrist.

“I thought I knew him,” she leered, still staring out past the transparisteel window at the zooming, amorphous shapes of speeding stars.

The pair remained like that for a few minutes. River let the tunnel of hyperspace pull her into a trance as she thought back on Rhet’s promises.

_Even if you leave, I will find you._

_I will always find you._

She squeezed her eyes shut and bit the side of her thumb, holding back a deep sob.

“Mesa, you—,”

“Don’t _fucking_ call me that,” she spat. The words hurled violently out of her chest, propelling her to the edge of the chair. Her chest swelled with each impassioned breath, eyes red hot and furious.

The Mandalorian remained unmoving in his seat, hands spread wide atop the armrests. His lack of reaction unsettled her.

“Okay,” he said steadily. “River.”

A childlike prattle sounded from behind her. She whipped her head around at the surprise.

“Is — is there a _kid_ in here?”

Her eyebrow arched to high heavens as she returned her gaze to the Mandalorian, who was standing up from his seat to exit the cockpit.

“Don’t move. And don’t touch anything,” he ordered.

She huffed and stood up from her chair. “Why do you have a child on board?”

He disappeared down the ladder into the ship’s living area. River braved a look over the edge of the cockpit floor.

The Mandalorian stood at the base of the ladder, cradling a tiny, green alien with pointed ears. Its massive eyes sparkled up at River as he flexed his chubby, clawed fingers in her direction. There was no way this was a quarry… right?

“What is it?” she asked, her raven hair falling wildly around her face.

The bounty hunter tilted his head back to look at her.

“I don’t know.” He moved to a cabinet that he’d lined with soft blankets and pillows, a makeshift crib. “And I said not to move.”

He tenderly placed the baby inside and closed the partition before crossing his arms, looking back up at River.

“Are you hungry?”

She blinked at him. “You’re going to feed me?”

“Yeah... Come down.” He waved an arm and folded a small table out of a slot in the wall.

River tentatively climbed down the ladder, careful not to slip off any of the rungs. She took a seat as the bounty hunter placed a prepackaged food ration in the warming cabinet. He leaned casually against the wall and watched her.

“Why are you being nice to me?” she asked. She’d never imagined being captured by a Mandalorian bounty hunter, but this treatment seemed even more bizarre.

The question nearly stopped his heart, for more reasons than he wanted to admit.

“This isn’t being nice,” he said. The warming cabinet dinged, and the cramped living area was filled with the smell of meat and rice.

“It’s your basic right,” he concluded, setting the tray in front of River. He took a seat across from her.

She took a bite and pondered his words. It was sad. She’d been kicked around so much that this seemed _nice._ Being offered basic fucking sustenance by someone who held all the power. What a concept.

“Are you not gonna eat?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

“I don’t remove my helmet in front of any living being,” he said, tapping his finger against the table. “I eat in private.”

River’s stomach dropped as she remembered this tenet of Mandalorian culture, this steadfast and unwavering Way. She hoped she didn’t offend him by asking, and decided to keep shoveling food in her mouth to keep it from flapping out some other embarrassing observation.

He stayed at the table, watching her as she speared food onto her fork. She’d tucked the half-curtain of hair behind her ear, fully displaying both eyes.

The Mandalorian rarely had bounties that struck him like this. He usually had no problems disassociating from the ones who made him feel pangs of remorse, or empathy, or any other uncomfortable emotion; he’d just throw them in carbonite and be done with it.

But he was out of carbonite, and she was… something else. He didn’t know what yet.

Ever since the Child appeared, seemingly everything was affecting him differently. He felt himself softening and was doing little to stop it.

He decided to brave a question.

“Why don’t you want to go back to Nar Shaddaa?”

River stopped mid-chew.

“Why do you want to know?” Venom dripped at the edges of her words. If this guy had personal ties to Rhet, she wasn’t about to say anything that would find its way back to him.

The Mandalorian wasn’t entirely sure about his answer. He shouldn’t want to know. It was against Guild Code. But…

“I…” he broke off, trying to find the right words. “Look, I’ve been doing this for a long time. I can tell when people are honest.”

He paused, his hidden eyes meeting hers across the table. It was as if she was trying to summon all her power to see straight through the visor to his soul.

He had to look away. The intensity was too much.

“You don’t seem like my usual target,” he admitted, static masking the softness of his true voice.

River wasn’t sure how to take that. She pushed the tray towards the middle of the table, suddenly losing her appetite.

“I’ll be killed there,” she whispered.

She couldn’t believe she was admitting this. For a full year, she’d held her pain close to her chest, guarding it like a divine secret. Not talking about it meant never being found, never having to face it.

The blank canvas of the helmet made her feel emboldened to continue, its anonymity lending a strange level of trust to the mix, like a priest in a confessional.

The vocoder crackled, “By Rhet?”

Wildfire erupted behind her eyes at the mention of his name. It was all the answer he needed.

“Why?” he asked. His voice was quieter now. He didn’t want to scare her off. She was already so scared.

River leaned against the backrest of the chair. She crossed her arms, the motion dislodging the half-curtain of hair out from behind her ear.

“Because I left him.”

There was an intensity to her gaze and a finality to her words as she stared unblinking at the Mandalorian. For all the softness behind her eyes, there was rage and unbridled anger in equal measure.

She slipped into an old memory. It was the first time she really did think she was going to die.

_Rhet flexed his arm, slapping the skin of his bicep playfully._

_“Come on, hit me hard,” he said._

_River gave a half-hearted punch, not enjoying the sound of thudding bone against his muscle. She’d seen him beat up before and didn't care to recreate it herself._

_Rhet rolled his eyes in frustration. “Hit me!”_

_She did it again, a little harder. He was being insistent that she learn how to defend herself, especially after a few recent close calls. The gangs were getting more and more violent, and she was getting embedded deeper and deeper into their operations. It made sense, she guessed._

_“Mesa, you can hit harder than that. Kriffing hit me!” His eyes had gone wild, practically glowing around the irises in pure mania._

_She drew back and hit him hard enough to hurt herself in the process. As she recoiled, Rhet swung on her._

_“See?!” he huffed between punches. “You gotta be ready for anything, little bird.”_

_She twisted on the ground, helpless and terrified, as he kept wailing on her._

The Mandalorian’s voice tore her from the reverie.

“He was your husband?” he asked over his shoulder, already up and standing at the kid’s sleeping cabinet.

The compartment door slid open, revealing the child once again. He reached up towards the man, silently asking to be picked up.

“No,” River scoffed. “Thank the stars I wasn’t stupid enough to marry him.”

She almost had. They used to talk about it often. One bad decision begetting another bad decision…

The Mandalorian scooped up the baby and brought him to the table, balancing him on his knee. He dragged the unfinished meal tray towards him and began spooning small bites of meat and rice into the baby’s mouth. Little pieces would fall around his face, and the Mandalorian would patiently wipe them away with a rag.

River felt herself melting at the edges. This was no ordinary bounty hunter.

“So he’s an ex boyfriend I assume?”

The Mandalorian was typically a man of few words, but couldn’t resist wanting to hear her voice again and again. His composure, normally so steely and unshakable, was warping under her gaze.

River nodded.

“I can’t go back there,” she pleaded softly, still watching the baby as he hiccuped between final bites of dinner.

There was something in the way her voice just barely cracked, how her eyes gleamed with the threat of fresh tears, that broke something inside the Mandalorian.

He needed the money from this job. He was offered an unbelievable sum for delivering her back to Nar Shaddaa. Tracking her hadn’t been as easy as he imagined.

But a bigger and bigger part of him - one the he had been wrestling with for months now - needed to do the right thing.

A loaded silence hung between them.

“It’s late,” he said, shifting the child to be cradled gently in the crook of his arm. “There’s a spare bunk you can use, second door down the hall. Go rest.”

There was a softness to his voice through the modifier. It comforted River enough to trust this other small kindness.

Setting the baby down to play with a small silver ball, the Mandalorian led River through a cramped hallway to her sleeping quarters. Two doorways sat side by side, each with a faded canvas curtain as the only privacy between the rooms and the rest of the ship.

A bunk was set into the wall with sheets and blankets tucked militantly around the mattress. Storage crates overtook most of the space, making it seem even smaller.

The singular refresher was across the hall, thankfully sporting a real door.

River turned around in the cramped space. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

She meant it. And he could tell.

———

River’s dreams were smothering. Rhet starred in every single one, possessing her thoughts like the demon she knew him to be.

In her final nightmare, she was running late to work. She was frenzied, whirring about her tiny apartment trying to find her other platform boot with barely a second to spare.

Rhet was lazing on top of the crumpled sheets, uninterested in helping her.

“Come here,” he said low and predatory, an undercurrent of lust coating his voice like poisoned wine.

She huffed, exasperated, “I gotta find my shoe. Gonna be late.”

Rhet half-laughed. “Just wear something else,” he drawled. “Come here.”

River stopped and clenched her jaw so tight she thought she might shatter her molars. Her patience with him had worn beyond thin. All he did was lay around all day - in _her_ kriffing apartment - and demand she bring him food and booze and t’bac and sex.

She couldn’t confront him. It always ended in anguish, mental or physical or nasty cocktail of both, so instead she turned to him with her secretly clenched jaw.

He patted the empty space on the mattress with a wry smile

River fought the urge to roll her eyes and sat down. Rhet wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to lay beside him. His lips swiftly attached themselves to her neck, licking and sucking as he pressed his erection against her leg.

“Let’s fuck before you go,” he growled against her ear.

She didn’t want to. She didn’t even have the time if she _did_ want to. She had to get to her job so she could get paid so she could keep funding this shitty relationship.

“No, after work,” she said. “I’m gonna be late.”

Rhet kept biting and kissing her neck, trying to get a reaction other than dismissal.

“Don’t be a kriffin’ tease, Mesa,” he groaned, dragging his length against her.

She tried to wiggle herself out of his grasp, but he held tighter.

“Who said you could leave?” he snarled. His fingers dug hard enough into her arms to leave bruises.

In a flash, he had her pinned on her stomach on the bed, the full weight of his upper body behind his forearm as it pressed her neck into the mattress. She flailed under him.

“Get off!” she screamed. “I can’t do this right now!”

Rhet laughed on top of her, a maniacal sound, and yanked her pants down over her ass.

“No, little bird,” he grunted. The diamond hard head of his cock probed at her entrance, dry and sealed off to him. Her whole body went rigid as durasteel.

“You can’t leave until I say you can leave.”

———

With River sleeping soundly in her bunk, the Mandalorian retreated to the cockpit with the baby and ran a systems check to see how far his remaining fuel would take them. He could get into the core worlds with his current supply. All the better - fuel prices were lower there than in the far reaches of the Outer Rim.

He’d have to be strategic about which planet he used as a pit stop. Anything with Imperial remnants was out of the question for the kid’s sake.

Hosnian Prime seemed like a good bet. The new Republic, however ineffective they were, had managed to start up a calm enough capital there. After plugging in the coordinates, the Mandalorian pulled up a new holofeed window and searched a name.

Rhet Tozer.

Records populated the results feed, detailing the crimes he’d been accused of. Spice possession. Grand theft. Several assaults. Battery.

Typical wannabe Huttese scum, unlucky enough to get caught.

The Mandalorian sighed as he ran the name through a few other search windows - one for his birth records, one for his registered assets, one for his dealings with the Guild.

There it was, blinking blue in the top right corner of his Guild results.

Rhet Tozer had a bounty on his head. Wanted dead or alive on Cantonica, returned to the local crime syndicate headquartered just outside Canto Bight.

The Mandalorian expanded the feed, scrolling through to the job details. The bounty had been placed nearly seven months ago; he didn’t recognize the hunter who’d been assigned this puck. Search results came up empty with the hunter’s code, naturally.

A heavy sigh crackled through his helmet as he leaned back in the pilot’s chair, weighing this new information.

The Mandalorian had a job to do - return River to Rhet.

But a fellow mystery Guild member had a job too, one that was taking far too long. He checked the time. Too late on Nevarro to call Greef for some insight. His curiosity would have to wait.

He shut down the holofeeds and scooped up the child, bringing him back to his sleeping nook to be tucked in. His big eyes blinked once, then twice, then slowly shut as he drifted peacefully off to sleep.

The Mandalorian quietly walked down the hall, shutting off lights as he moved. Tentatively, he barely parted the curtain to River’s cabin to catch another glimpse of her. Her back was turned, rising and falling with haggard, uneven breaths as she slept on her side, no doubt caught up in the middle of a nightmare. For a fleeting moment, he considered placing a steady hand on her shoulder, waking her up to comfort her.

He released the curtain, letting embarrassment creep across his face. He shouldn’t be acting like this.

He turned in to his own quarters to remove his outer armor and get some rest. As he stretched out across the bunk, he had a feeling deep in his gut that things were about to get very interesting.

———

River was disoriented when she woke up. Climbing out from under the blanket, the freezing cold air pierced her skin, shooting ice up her whole body when her bare feet made contact with the steel deck.

As the world returned to her, she remembered where she was. The bounty hunter’s ship. In hyperspace on her way to Nar Shaddaa. Headed back for the life she fought so hard to leave behind.

Sadness sank heavily in her chest.

She pulled her pants back on and hoped that the Mandalorian couldn’t pick up on any scents through his metal helmet. She smelled like a barroom floor.

He was already dressed in his armor and cleaning a blaster at the table when she rounded the corner.

“Good morning,” she croaked, voice hoarse from a poor night’s sleep.

The Mandalorian raised his helmet for a moment before returning his attention to the blaster. He didn’t want to allow himself to stare at her, still so beautiful even with her mussed hair and tired eyes. She slid into the chair across from him.

“Bold of you to leave that weapons safe open with an angry fugitive aboard,” she teased, jerking her head to his well-stocked blaster collection. “What’s stopping me from killing you and stealing this ship?”

The baby tugged on the leg of her pants, pulling her attention down to the floor. She smiled at his playfulness.

“You’d be dead before you could even get your finger on the trigger,” he replied, the smirk in his voice evident through the mask and vocoder. “There’s caf over there. Help yourself.”

He returned to cleaning the blaster as River scooped up the baby. She noticed him tense, but decided not to let it stop her.

”You know, Mando, I’m starting to think I’m on a luxury starliner. Dinner, private quarters, and caf in the morning?” She bobbed the baby up and down in her arms, making him blurt out the cutest giggle. “Are you sure you have to turn me in?”

The Mandalorian sighed and began reassembling the blaster, trying to focus his racing thoughts into something familiar.

River set the baby back down, watching him scurry off to play with a small wooden toy, something that looked handmade. She poured herself a mug of hot caf and kept talking.

“Can’t we just say I escaped, and I find a way to pay you back what Rhet promised?”

Mando had heard this line of bargaining before from his quarries. Doing something like that was a major violation, enough to get him expelled from the Guild for good this time.

He tried denying the fact that his mind went to a lewd place when she mentioned repaying him. His urges were clouding his sanity.

With a click, the final piece of the cleaned blaster was reattached, ready to be stored. Mando moved to the weapons safe and locked up, trying desperately not to look at the outline of her nipples, pushing tight against the close-fitting fabric of her shirt.

“River…” he said, his hands resting against the closed door of the safe. “I can’t do something like that.”

Her smile fell, leaving her face looking gaunt and pale. Mando turned from the safe and saw her. She looked absolutely devastated.

She had already fought so hard to get off Nar Shaddaa. She wasn’t sure she had it in her for another fight, especially one against Rhet.

The tiny green child moved his wide eyes from River to his new father, mirroring the sadness she was emanating, his green ears turning down slightly. The Mandalorian silently cursed, feeling trapped and suffocated by the heavy melancholy that filled the room.

He shouldn’t keep trying to save everybody. It was a liability. He was a bounty hunter, not a charity worker, not a vigilante. He was not this fucking soft. But...

“I —” he sputtered. Was he really doing this? “But I know something we can do instead.”

River’s eyes turned up to sear into the helmet’s visor, so full of determination and skepticism and _hope._

“I need you to tell me what happened,” he continued. “I have to know why you’re so afraid to go back to him.”

River swallowed, shifting her eyes down and to the side.

“I don’t like to talk about it,” she said, the muscles of her neck already tense and strained in response.

Mando closed the distance between them and placed a broad hand on her upper arm.

“I know what that feels like,” he offered with a comforting softness. “But I have to know.”

He had to be sure he was making the right decision. He had to know if River was lying to him. Maker, he really felt like she wasn’t. There was something about her…

She sat down at the table and took a sip of caf. Mando picked up on her cue, taking the chair across from her.

River’s eyes were bloodshot. Purple rings of exhaustion shone through her faded makeup. She raked her hands roughly through her hair.

“Okay…” she breathed. “It’s a long story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I promise the smut is coming sooner than you think.
> 
> I have a loose plan to post regular chapters to keep me on track with writing, BUT I am getting married in 17 days (eeeek!) and going on a two-week honeymoon, so updates may be slow at first. Because, ya know, love and stuff.


	2. Leather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mando shouldn’t care, but he can’t help it. He’s given River a chance to state her case for not returning to Nar Shaddaa. Will her story give him the resolve he seeks?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: There are small mentions of Rhet’s past abuse, nowhere as graphic as Chapter One. Skip down to the first section break if you’d like to avoid that.

She ended up talking for nearly three hours. The Mandalorian couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard  _ anyone  _ talk that long. He couldn’t get enough of her voice.

“I was so sheltered growing up. I was bored with my life,” she recalled. “I left home to find adventure, even if the adventure just lasted the night.”

The Mandalorian shifted in his seat, feeling a small thrill at her innuendo.

River blew a stream of air over the steaming caf and continued, “Nar Shaddaa seemed like the perfect place to see a little action… and it was cheaper than Coruscant.”

River - Mesa, back then - was diving headfirst into the party scene in Nar Shaddaa after leaving her home world, cozying up to smugglers, prostitutes, spice runners. The danger made her feel alive in a way she never had before.

Rhet was exactly what she had in mind. Tattooed, a little hotheaded, with a vile mouth and too much confidence. He walked around with his arm around her like he  _ owned  _ her, he fucked her like he owned her, and he made sure everyone around them knew she was his. It made her feel coveted, special, untouchable.

Their relationship began on a high, as he flaunted his power and status in the gang-driven underworld of Nar Shaddaa. He’d take her to wild warehouse parties in the Hutt-controlled undercity, where he’d pass her drugs she didn’t recognize. They’d dance until they were slick with sweat, or retreat to a back room and fuck for hours.

Seemingly everything was handed to them when they went out in his territory. They were feared, admired, and whispered about.

River quickly learned Rhet actually had nothing, not even a real place to live. He slept on a salvaged mattress in his gang’s garage on the outskirts of the Old Duros Sector. Everything he owned was stolen or borrowed, usually without the intention of ever being returned. Each night was spent at River’s tiny apartment, sleeping in until the mid-afternoon and running with the gangs until the early morning.

She was working and enrolled in pilot school, taking a few classes per week in hopes of landing a stable job, something that would help her see more of the galaxy. She dreamed of helming the luxurious pleasure yachts of the rich and famous. It paid handsomely and the shore leave was the stuff of summertime holodramas - all lush tropical hideaways, sweeping black sand beaches, dual sunsets.

The Mandalorian fought a smile at these tiny revelations. She liked the ocean. And dancing. And she had a raunchy side that made him sweat under his high collar.

“He was a scoundrel,” she recalled, letting her hands busy themselves with the tin cup as she talked. “He did anything he could for a payday, except getting a real job, of course.”

She hoped that comment didn’t sting Mando too much. His occupation wasn’t so different in theory, she imagined.

A silence fell between them. Mando could see the thousands of memories, singular moments of pain and helplessness, stirring up behind those huge brown eyes.

River brought a shaky hand to the sleeve of her shirt and pushed up the material. Small oval-shaped scars spotted up the skin of her forearm.

“He would burn me with his lit t’bac.”

Mando swore he stopped breathing. She ran her fingers over the scars, some faded with irregular borders, others still pink and shining with fresh flesh.

“Sometimes it was a punishment. Sometimes it was for no reason at all.”

She pulled the sleeve back down and looked at the masked man across from her. The Mandalorian was as stiff as his beskar while he listened.

“That wasn’t even all of it though,” she said.

She recounted the first time Rhet beat her, under the pretense of training her how to defend herself. The Mandalorian hung on to every word, unable to fathom how anyone would ever want to hit her gorgeous face. Especially someone who claimed to love her.

He had to hide his clenched fists under the table when she told him about how he’d overpower and humiliate her, never letting her leave the apartment until he’d had his way, never letting her say no.

“You don’t have to keep going,” the Mandalorian interjected. He didn’t want to - or need to - hear anything more. Rage swelled in his chest like a rising crimson tide.

River swallowed hard, trying to force the acrid taste back down her throat as she stirred up all this pain she’d never vocalized. She was laid bare, torn open in front of this masked man, giving him  _ everything  _ \- her real name, her history, her scars, all in the hope that he’d do  _ something  _ to keep her from seeing Rhet again.

“He made me drive away every single person in my life,” she faltered. “He made me cut off all contact with my friends, my own family. I dropped out of pilot school.”

A singular tear made its escape and landed on River’s lap, leaving a dark spot on her tan pants.

“Then how did you leave?” Mando asked. His shoulders were bunched up by his ears. This story was nearly as hard for him to hear as it was for River to tell.

Her eyes glinted at Mando, shining like his armor.

“They call it the Smuggler’s Moon for a reason,” she paused, letting a wry smirk twitch across the corner of her mouth. “I started pocketing credits, hiding them from Rhet. One day, I used what I had to buy passage on a smuggler ship headed to the Outer Rim. I only had a bag with the bare essentials. I ended up on Horuz. I changed my name and dyed my hair.”

A steely determination had settled across her features. She was proud of this, this one victory she had in her life.

A victory that the Mandalorian had taken away.

“He always promised me that he’d find a way to be in my life, whether I wanted it or not. He swore if I left he’d send mercenaries after me.”

A heaviness flowed between them. The prophecy Rhet always threatened her with had come true. The bounty hunter’s stomach felt like it was filled with lead.

River got up and headed towards the refresher.

“I’ll be right back,” she said over her shoulder.

Mando didn’t expect to hear a good story about Rhet. He also didn’t expect that hearing it would fill him with a blistering fury. He stood from the table, pacing the common area as he considered his plan.

River wasn’t going back to that scum. He couldn’t allow it to happen.

The refresher door reopened with a soft woosh. River, feet still bare, padded down the hallway with her head down. She hadn’t realized how awful her pale skin looked, eyes ringed with purple bags. She tried to hide from Mando behind her hair.

“River,” he said, extending his arms out to stop her. He wrapped her in an urgent embrace, pressing her face against the cool metal of his chest. His gloved hand cradled the side of her head against him.

“You’re not going back to him.”

She fought to stifle an unintelligible sound - some vocal garble halfway between relief and shock - as she liquified in his arms. River ran her hands around his torso, wrapping around his back, drawing him tighter to her.

“I’m going to take care of this,” he whispered against the top of her head.

The scent of her, stormy and provocative and feminine, wafted up through the open bottom of his helmet.

He was going to protect her. He was going to kill this pain.

He was going to make sure no one ever hurt her again.

———

After their talk, Mando retreated to the cockpit to think. He set River up with some fresh clothes - a soft cotton undertunic that would be long enough to appropriately cover her - and showed her how to use the knobs in the refresher.

He knew what he wanted to do.

They were going to Nar Shaddaa, and they were going to meet up with Rhet. Mando would hand her over, only long enough to collect his bounty, and then he was going to capture this vile scum in turn.

Fuck that other bounty hunter. They were ineffective. It was time for Mando to clean up their mess.

He was going to keep it from Greef. He didn’t need to know.

From Nar Shaddaa, they’d return Rhet to Canto Bight and collect the second payment. River would get 100% of the reward and have her choice of planets to settle on, hopefully somewhere safe where Mando could keep an eye on her.

He knew it wasn’t foolproof, but he was going to try his hardest to make it work.

The muffled metallic sound of bare feet climbing the cockpit ladder startled him.

River stood at the entrance to the cockpit, raven hair damp and hanging loosely around her shoulders. The undertunic -  _ his  _ undertunic - was baggy around her form. The hem fell to her mid-thighs, hands mostly covered by the too-long sleeves. She looked soft, and just barely wet, delicately glistening in the blurred, amorphous lights of hyperspace.

“How much longer do we have?” she asked.

She crossed her arms and rubbed her hands roughly over the fabric, trying to conjure up warmth.

Wordlessly, Mando stood from the chair and reached under his pauldrons to unwind his cape, drawing it around River’s shoulders as a makeshift cloak.

She knit her brows together and looked up at him, eyes darting around the smooth planes of his helmet.

Her captor was becoming her savior. The logical part of her kept screaming at her not to believe it.

“About ten hours,” he replied.

The child peeked his green head up from the egg-shaped pram and babbled happily. Smiling, River walked towards him, crouching down to eye level.

She cooed, “I bet you could use some play time, huh?”

Mando turned to watch them, seeing River stroke his ear until he reached up to wrap his green fingers around her pale one. They beamed at each other.

“Please,” Mando said. “Play with him. I don’t get to as much as I should.”

River heard the faint regret in his voice. How a bounty hunter - a very busy one at that - could find time to care for a youngling was beyond her. She admired him for even trying.

She scooped the baby up out of the pram and tucked him into the wrapped cape with her.

“Let’s give your daddy some time alone,” she said softly, bobbing the child gently as she peeked up at Mando.

The look she gave him made his head swim, his brain turning to liquid ooze in his skull. He shook his helmet side to side after they slipped out of the cockpit, trying to regain some focus.

The muffled sounds of River and the child playing on the floor of the common area soothed Mando as he tinkered with the ship’s controls.

He smiled. He’d considered himself a loner since the Purge.

Maybe that was changing.

———

After a couple hours of play, River carried the baby to his sleeping nook and put him down for a nap. She gently closed the partition, sealing him in darkness to rest.

Mando had been watching her from the base of the ladder.

“I barely heard you come down,” she said, turning towards him.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Being quiet is an advantage for me.”

“I bet,” she chuckled. She looked at him, studying the way his body relaxed against the wall. His shoulders had lowered from their space up by his ears this morning. He looked strong and sure of himself, like in the cantina on Horuz.

She’d been so scared then. Things had changed so quickly. It still didn’t feel real.

“How skilled are you with your knife?” he asked.

The question took her by surprise. She’d used it before in dire situations, like the time she was almost mugged walking home late from the market. In reality, she kept it more as a safety blanket than anything.

“I’m okay,” she shrugged.

Mando pushed up off the wall, moving to the blaster safe.

“What about blasters?”

River’s heart jumped. “I’ve never fired one,” she admitted quietly.

The doors of the safe clanged against the wall, and Mando tossed her one. She squealed, trying to catch it without accidentally having it go off.

Mando shook his head teasingly at her. The girl from Nar Shaddaa had never fired a blaster... He could hardly believe it.

“River,” he sighed. “We’re gonna change that.”

She could hear the grin in his voice as she stared in wide-eyed reverence at the blaster in her hand. She’d been around her fair share before, but always avoided using one herself. Or even really touching them.

“I —,” she stuttered. “Wait, here?!”

Her eyes were as wide as the two moons of Tatooine.

“Not here,” he assured her. “But I need you to stop holding it like it’s on fire. The safety’s on. You’re not gonna hurt anybody.”

She looked down again at the blaster, letting herself adjust to its weight in her hand and the feeling of the cool metal beginning to warm against her palm.

“I’ll try to find a holster that’ll fit. I need you to get comfortable with having a weapon on you.”

“I  _ have  _ had a weapon on me,” she retorted.

A scoff came through the vocoder.

“I mean something deadlier than a pocket knife,” he mumbled, clapping her shoulder.

He slipped out of the room and dug through a storage bin in the cargo area at the rear of the ship. River spent a few minutes holding the gun in different positions around the common room, aiming at various items and imagining herself firing.

Mando re-emerged with a leather belt and a leg harness. They were going to be too big on her, but it was acceptable until they stopped to refuel and could buy something appropriate.

“Okay,” he breathed. “Let me show you how to put this on. It’s not going to fit perfect.”

River nodded and watched him slide the waist belt through a loop on the holster. He stretched the wide belt out end-to-end and brought it over her, wrapping it around her back to meet at her belly button.

Her breath caught in her throat as he slid the end of the belt through the buckle and fastened it snug against her waist. He tenderly tucked the loose end behind her to secure it in place, his hand nearly spanning the entirety of her lower back.

River let her eyes roam over him as he worked, completely forgetting to pay attention to this lesson. She could hear him breathing under the helmet, uneven and raspy.

“This part goes around your leg,” he informed, picking up the front of the loose thigh strap.

He knelt down in front of her, placing a gloved hand on her knee. His other hand reached between her legs to catch the loose end of the leg strap and bring it to the buckle.

His touch was gentle, and lingered for just a second too long as he drew the leather against her bare thigh. He saw goosebumps dot up her skin. Behind the safety of the helmet, Mando chewed the inside of his lip to try and keep his breathing steady.

River felt like she was on fire. His fingers against her inner thigh sent a shockwave right up her entire body. A familiar excitement stirred in her abdomen.

It didn’t make sense. She didn’t know anything about him. She didn’t know his name or what he looked like.

But he was kind. And he was saving her. And he was self-assured and composed, looked wickedly strong and well-built, and was bizarrely, indescribably, undeniably —  _ sexy? _ She fought a blush, mentally wrestling with the irony of a man covering every inch of his body and still making her feel this way.

The buckle softly clanked as he fastened the final piece of the harness together. River exhaled slowly as Mando rose from the floor, taking the blaster from her hand and sheathing it in the empty holster.

He took a few steps back to take a better look.

River looked incredible to him. Her inky black hair, dry by now, flowed down her face and back, contrasting against the dingy white of his old undertunic. The brown leather belt accentuated the womanly slope of her waist, pulling the fabric to cling against her curves, inching it up just slightly to expose more skin.

Seeing her leg wrapped in leather, sporting a weapon - his weapon - electrified him. He wanted to pin her to the wall, hike up the hem of that shirt, and show her how a real man could make her feel. Not some sleazy, piece of shit excuse for a gangster.

River took a few tentative steps, feeling how the harness hugged her muscles as she walked, admiring how tough it made her look. She got an idea and playfully arched an eyebrow at Mando.

In a flash, she quickly shot her hand down to the holster, drawing the blaster as fast as she could. Before she could even raise it at Mando, he already had his own weapon pressed under her chin.

She giggled.

“Not bad,” he complimented.

“Not as good as you, though.” She holstered the blaster back in its spot on her leg.

“River...” Mando teased. “Nobody is as good as me.”

She swore she heard a heady edge laced around his words. Her mind reeled momentarily, wondering if he was flirting. The helmet made everything difficult to read.

With a playful shove, she moved past the Mandalorian to sit back at the table, placing the blaster flat against its hard surface.

“Can you teach me how you cleaned it earlier? And what the different parts do?”

If River was being honest, she really just wanted an excuse to have him lean in close to her, to talk at length about something he enjoyed. The gritty high-pass filter of his helmet layered intriguingly over the masculine richness of his voice. River couldn’t get enough. It was hypnotizing, this mix of man and machine.

Mando grinned wide, hidden from view. He gladly accepted the offer to show off.

———

The ship rattled as the landing gear engaged at the spaceport on Hosnian Prime. Mando chose to land at a smaller port, far outside the new capital, hoping to avoid crowds as much as possible.

River had returned Mando’s cape and changed back into her utility pants and boots. The holster stayed strapped to her thigh, too loose but putting Mando at ease nonetheless. He wanted her armed and protected.

“I don’t want to bring the kid, so we’ll have to make this a quick trip,” he explained.

“You’re leaving him here alone?” River didn’t like that.

Mando nodded, “It’s too dangerous for him.”

Pressing the button to lower the ramp, he turned to the girl and shrugged.

“He’s sleeping. I’ve done it before.”

River’s lips turned at the corner into a frown.

Mando sighed, waving her along to exit the ship. A spaceport attendant approached, looking skittish at the sight of him.

“G-good aftern- noon, uh, sir,” he stuttered. “W-what can I h-help you with? Today?”

Mando fished some credits out of his pouch and handed them over.

“We need fuel,” he said. “And if you have a mechanic on standby, see if they can do anything about the carbon scoring.”

The attendant nodded nervously, not daring to look up at the bounty hunter.

“No droids,” Mando said firmly, before walking out of the spaceport and into town.

The sun was mostly obscured by swirling rain clouds that threatened to pour at any moment.

Passerby stared or flat out walked in the opposite direction at the sight of the Mandalorian. They clearly were not a common sight in the Core Worlds, where enforcement and justice were delivered traditionally, in courts and prisons. Bounty hunting was a solution for the lawless Outer Rim.

River relished this unique attention. She felt protected and powerful walking in step with him, enjoying the press of her borrowed blaster against her leg. The Mandalorian was no half-assed gangster just showing off. He was the real kriffing deal.

He steered her into a provisions shop and placed some credits in her palm.

“Get some clothes and anything else you need,” he said. “I’m going to find you a harness.”

River fought another blush. Being taken care of in this way was foreign to her, and the hardened part of her told her not to trust it. Again, she tried to shut that voice up, stuff it down deep in her gut.

Moving to a rack of clothing, she selected a few essentials - socks, undergarments, a fresh pair of utility pants and a couple shirts. She splurged on an oversized hooded sweatshirt, large enough to cover just past mid-thigh, to bundle up in on the cold ship.

The personal care section of the shop was basic, but they did carry the black hair dye she’d need to refresh in a few weeks time. She picked some up as a precaution.

River didn’t know a lot of things. For one, she didn’t know how long she’d be welcome on his ship. She didn’t know what planet she’d be settling on next, when her next home cooked meal would be, or most importantly, how Mando planned on eliminating her Rhet problem.

What she did know was that she was being shown steadfast, resolute kindness. She didn’t want to question it, though she knew she should.

Probably.

The Mandalorian waited for her outside the store as she finished making her purchase. The beginnings of rain dripped from the sky. Tiny droplets pattered against the polished steel of his armor.

River motioned to his bag.

“Can I see it?” she asked. She brought a hand up to shield her eyes from the sprinkling rain as she looked up at him.

Mando peered up at the clouds and directed her back towards the spaceport. “Not yet,” he said. “I’ll show you on the ship.”

The streets were nearly empty now as the dark sky continued to threaten a downpour. River was thankful she’d have clean, dry clothes to change into when they were back. She was thankful for the unfathomable, unexpected hospitality Mando was showing her. She was thankful that by this divine miracle, she didn’t have to return to her old life.

The rain picked up as they walked, steadily increasing until it came down in thick, swirling sheets. It penetrated the layers of their clothes, drenching River’s hair, making it stick to the sides of her face. Mando grabbed her wrist, pulling her with him as he jogged back towards the lowering ramp of the Razor Crest. The charred blaster marks on the sides were still there, unrepaired.

Inside the entryway, Mando set down his bag and moved to quickly seal up the hull, separating them from the suddenly unrelenting storm.

River panted softly, catching her breath from the run. Mando’s legs out spanned hers considerably.

She studied him, watching the way he fluidly adjusted the ship’s controls from the nearby panel, turning on soft amber floor lights and locking the hatch. The rain was spattered across the plates of his beskar, sliding and dripping off of him onto the metal deck. His cape was saturated and hung heavy down his back, clinging to the outline of his hips.

She thought about his hands, how sure and big they felt when he pulled her through the streets back to the spaceport, and when he fastened his leg harness to her bare thigh. She thought about how good it would feel to have him peel the soaked layers of her clothes off her body, massaging warmth back into her muscles as she sighed against his neck.

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth as she watched his large gloved hand come up to wipe the water drops off his visor.

Despite the cold, water-logged layers of his thick canvas under armor, Mando felt like he was burning up. River’s breathiness, her disheveled hair sticking to her neck and cheeks, the clinging wet fabric of her shirt, it was all too much. He fucking  _ wanted  _ her.

As if hypnotized, River moved towards him slowly, unsure of what she wanted to do, but completely sure that she wanted to be closer to him.

A cry from the baby tore both of them from their fantasies.

Mando drew his blaster.

“Poor thing probably got scared by the storm,” said River, placing a cautious hand on Mando’s vambrace. He lowered the blaster, but didn’t holster it just yet.

They moved into the common area and found the child’s nook still closed. River opened it and held the baby close, stroking his ears and forehead as she shushed him sweetly.

Mando inspected the rest of the ship, ensuring no one was aboard to cause the child’s terror. He found River was right; it was just the storm.

“Why don’t you go change?” she asked after he returned to the room. His cape was leaving a trail of water behind him, turning to mud under their boots.

Mando inhaled to protest, but River cut him off before he could get a word out.

“I got him,” she reassured. “Go. Dry off.”

He disappeared into his cabin, stripping out of his armor and canvas layers into a fresh dry set. He reeled with a mixture of excitement and distress, knowing he was so  _ naked  _ when River was just outside, awake and able to walk in on him at any moment.

He was not used to this, this close-quarters cohabitation with another person. He hadn’t spent this much time on his ship with a conscious human, ever.

River was freezing in her soaked clothes. She was getting the baby’s little brown coat wet, and Mando was taking longer than she would’ve liked to get redressed.

She got an idea.

Placing the child down for a moment, she peeled her nearly see-through shirt off and draped it over the chair to drip dry. She took the dishrag from the kitchenette and dabbed at the baby’s robe before running it over her bare skin, soaking up enough moisture to at least be comfortable again.

She was being pragmatic. She was totally not teasing or being coy or sexy  _ at all. _ She smirked to herself and returned to soothing the baby.

After another few moments, River heard the rustle of the Mandalorian’s curtain. Long, steady footsteps rattled against the steel deck beneath his boots, until they screeched to a halt, stopping dead just past the entrance to the common room. She stayed turned around, rocking the baby in front of his nook.

Mando’s lungs ceased all function. Each fraction of a second felt drawn out to an impossible length while he watched her. The muscles of her back softly flexed and stretched as she laid the baby back down in his crib.

She turned around slowly, and he felt himself choke. The simple cotton bra covering her was wet, sticking to her nipples, hardened from the chill of the rain. The faded pink and brown scars on her forearms were on full display.

She was fucking beautiful.

A small smile twitched up River’s face. She had imagined a few outcomes as she slid the soaked fabric off her body. His dumbfounded stillness was one of them.

Mando’s senses returned to him all at once, like a phantom hand had stuffed his brain back inside his skull. He turned away swiftly, blushing something  _ fierce  _ under his helmet at the realization that he’d been staring. Then suddenly, his stomach backflipped. She hadn’t tried to hide from him. She  _ wanted _ him to see her. She even  _ smiled. _

River passed by him on her way towards the narrow hallway.

Her voice was a lilting whisper, “I’m gonna go change.”

Maker, he was a mess. His length strained against the thick canvas of his fresh pants. He’d been with women before, sure, but seeing River half-undressed, dripping onto the floor of  _ his ship _ was too fucking much. Gods, he throbbed at the thought of it, at what it would’ve felt like to hold her down against the cold, dirty deck and sink into the slick warmth of her.

In an attempt to squelch the lewd images flashing across his mind, Mando unpacked what he’d bought on their trip into town.

He placed the brand new leather leg harness and belt on the table. He was sure this one would fit, given his newfound familiarity with her thigh.

River rounded the corner back into the room roughly drying her hair with a towel, carrying the large holster and blaster with her. Her feet were bare again, and Mando’s eyes dragged up along the exposed skin of her legs to the baggy sweatshirt she wore as a dress.

“Is that mine?” she asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Mando picked up her gift and started threading the belt through the holster.

“Come here,” he said.

River padded across the steel deck, dropping the towel and borrowed harness on the table.

“You had to wear a dress, huh?” he asked. There was a rugged gruffness to his voice now, low and rumbling like distant crashing waves.

River hadn’t considered the fact that he might want to be the one to outfit her again in the harness. Her heart fluttered at the thought of him touching her bare legs one more time. She couldn’t believe she’d been so accidentally genius.

“This is hardly a dress. But it’s warm,” she said, looking down at herself. “I like it.”

He did too. He considered for a moment the practicality of putting this on underneath her sweatshirt, of sliding his hands up her sides and being able to inhale the scent of her.

He decided against it. Mando snaked the leather belt around her waist, over her clothing, and buckled it for her, before kneeling down again at her bare feet. The fingertips of his gloves ghosted down the wide part of her hip.

If he wasn’t wearing the helmet, she would have gingerly ran her fingers through his hair, absentmindedly twirling the ends while he worked. But she couldn’t do that. She kept her hands at her sides and imagined what his hair looked like.

She had nothing to go off of. Maybe it was long and tied up in a loose knot. Maybe he didn’t have any at all.

The bounty hunter moved to fasten the holster’s strap around her thigh. This new one was situated higher than Mando’s loaner, sitting closer to the magnetic heat of her core. Carefully, he threaded the thin leather strap through the buckle and slid it until it rested firmly against her skin. River swayed in place, letting herself get carried away by the intoxicating proximity of his hands to her sex. She settled her palms on his shoulders to ground herself.

Mando froze at the contact. His work on the harness was done, but he didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay kneeled at her feet, running light touches up her thighs, watching the goosebumps dot up and down the expanse of her flesh.

Squeezing her leg gently, he rose to his feet and peered down at her.

“How do I look?” she asked.

He paused. The loose fabric of her sweatshirt was bunched up around her right hip, showing off her smooth skin.

How honest did he want to be? He took so long to formulate a satisfactory response that River thought she wasn’t getting an answer.

Mando reached to the table to pick up his blaster and took his time settling it back into her holster. River watched his hand as it slowly drew away from her; he just barely heard her take in a sharp breath as the tips of his gloves barely ghosted over her hip.

Their eyes met again, deep brown to shining beskar.

“You look like a warrior.”

If he hadn’t taken the Creed, he would’ve torn the helmet off and kissed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yer boi is sprung. Chapter Three is written, almost done being edited, and hotter than melted down beskar. Hope to have that up next week!


	3. Sink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rain is subsiding on Hosnian Prime. There’s another full day of travel ahead to Vardos. How will they pass the time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s 10 AM and I’m posting smut.
> 
> This chapter is shorter than the rest, but it is 100% nothing but pure fluff, smut, and baby cuteness. Enjoy!

While they waited out the storm on Hosnian Prime, the Mandalorian requested some time to himself in his cabin, presumably to enjoy a few uninterrupted hours of rest without his armor. River respectfully obliged and holed up in the cockpit to give him some space. She admired his ability to ask for what he wanted without apology. It implied a sense of self-confidence she hadn’t felt herself in, well, a while.

She sat in the pilot’s chair and drummed her fingers rhythmically on the console. Unfamiliar music broadcast from the spaceport’s comms tower, weaved between weather updates and service announcements. The child sat quietly in his pram nearby.

Her mind kept replaying images of Mando on his knees, drawing his fingers up and down her leg. She imagined how he might have touched her if he’d gone further, brushing his gloves against the apex of her thighs. Softly, just barely at first, she envisioned.

She bit her lip and turned up the music to try and distract herself.

Rain poured down the smooth cockpit windows in thick rivulets, sporadically backlit by electric blue lightning in the distance. The Razor Crest was a garrison against the howling wind, standing steady and firm.

River remembered an old barroom trope about a person’s ship revealing everything there was to know about their personality. She didn’t know much about Mando, but if the Crest was anything to go by, he was strong and fast, spartan and reliable, a sleek silver fortress of a man, sailing smoothly through the wild vastness of space. He was utilitarian, made for a specific purpose, with the kind of grisly wisdom that came from traveling the galaxy many times over.

She ran her hands across the armrests of his pilot’s chair. They were wide, able to accommodate the breadth of his limbs, and made River feel small and safe. She took off her holster and curled up into a ball on the chair, dreaming about his arms wrapping around her…

———

The fan of her lashes cast a small crescent shadow across the tops of her cheeks. The rain had mostly stopped, and the faint glow of the stormy rising moon lit the cockpit in cool shades of blue and purple.

He turned the music down and watched her.

If River had asked, he would’ve told her he spent his alone time eating and hydrating, enjoying a few moments helmetless. He did do those things, but he’d also taken himself in hand, thrusting into his fist at the thought of her body, rain-soaked and wrapped around his cock. She was driving him wild just by existing, unraveling him with furtive glances, barely-there touches, teasing smirks.

The winds outside had calmed enough to safely take off, and he was eager to start the second day-long leg of travel to Vardos.

But that was difficult, with her sleeping so peacefully in his chair next to the baby.

He kneeled down and softly placed a hand on her leg, not wanting to startle her. A tiny, high-pitched sigh eked out of her chest when he lightly squeezed, something he wished he could’ve recorded and played back on lonely nights. She repositioned herself in the chair, still asleep.

“River…” he said quietly as his hand stroked up and down her leg. “Wake up.”

Her lashes fluttered just barely, revealing her brown eyes in slivered flashes until they closed again with a contented exhale. He scooped her up, letting her head loll against his chest, as he placed her in the co-pilot’s chair behind him. Once more, he removed his cape and wrapped her in it to shield her from the oncoming cold of hyperspace.

It wasn’t until the Crest made the jump that she startled awake.

“W- where are we?” she stammered.

“Just hit the hyperspeed lane to Vardos,” he said over his shoulder.

River stretched in her seat and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Her back cracked loudly as she twisted.

She hadn’t slept in a chair since Nar Shaddaa, when in her desperation she holed up in her neighbor’s unlocked speeder. It was better than returning to her own bed when Rhet was in a bad mood. She shuddered at the memory and rolled her shoulders back.

Mando turned his chair to face her. Their knees just barely touched in the cramped space.

“I need you to stay on the ship with the child on our next stop.” His tone was serious. “You need to keep your blaster on you the whole time.”

She yawned big and long, letting her breath scrape the walls of her lungs.

“Why?” she asked airily. “Imps on your back?”

Mando paused and stiffened. “Yes.”

Her eyes widened. She’d been joking.

“But the Empire fell,” she half-asked. “Wh- …Why?”

Here it was, she thought. Here was the moment of disappointment she should’ve been anticipating. What heinous war crime was he wanted for? What was he running from?

She really needed to stop meeting guys in bars. Her kriffing horrible taste in men was coming back to bite her _kriffing idiotic_ ass, and —

“They want the kid,” he said, flat and steady as ever.

_Oh._ She looked at the baby, who’d stirred awake and looked to be on the verge of hungry tears.

Like she predicted the future, the child burst into a long, wailing cry, pulling her from the thousand questions she wanted to ask.

“He’s hungry,” she said, plucking him from the pram before disappearing into the common area to get a ration.

A moment later, Mando joined them downstairs, watching silently as the little one was fed small slurps out of a foil nutritional pouch. Frustration built, knowing he couldn’t use any precious moments on Vardos to get real food for them to share.

“Why do they want him?” she asked. Her forehead wrinkled up in confusion as she passed him off to Mando.

He sighed, cradling the child in his left arm. River found herself longing to tuck under his right one and gaze at the adorable little creature.

“I don’t know,” he answered. The vexation in his voice seemed almost amplified by the synthesizer. “But I have a bad feeling about it.”

The baby cooed and extended his tiny fingers up towards Mando, reaching and grabbing at the air between them, as if his care was a tangible object. River imagined taking hold of it and cradling it in her hands, holding it close to her chest.

“That damn rain,” he grumbled. “I wanted you to practice firing the blaster.”

River shrugged. “We can still try.”

His helmet turned towards her in a way she understood to mean he was confused. She walked towards the weapons cabinet.

“Unlock this,” she said.

From his vambrace, he pushed a button; the doors hissed and clicked. River plucked a blaster from the locker, not bothering to get her loaner from where she’d left it in the cockpit, and approached Mando.

“You can still show me how to aim and stand and all that without pulling the trigger,” she said, examining the weapon in her hands. “Right?”

He was fucking helpless when she looked at him like that, blinking up through her lashes. Gods. He would’ve agreed to anything she ever wanted.

“Sure,” he said, placing the baby on the floor to play by their feet. “Aim at that control panel down the hall,” he pointed.

River walked into position and raised the blaster with her right arm, angling her body in a way that seemed correct. She had no idea what she was doing, but tried to project confidence.

Mando circled behind her and fought a grin at how cute she was.

“You’re twisted around all weird,” he said, trying to sound patient, but mostly failing. “You’ll never land a shot that way.”

She pouted and brought her shoulders to an even position.

“That’s better,” he said. “Bring this leg back.” He tapped on her right thigh.

She stood with both feet placed together. Her shoulder began to burn in protest from holding the heavy blaster upright for so long.

“Now square your hips,” he said, inching closer to her back. He placed his hands on each hip bone and guided her into the right alignment, applying a steady pressure until she was perfectly upright.

A thrill ran up her spine. All he had to do was just inch his hands up, pulling the fabric of her sweater with him...

The vocal modulator crackled behind her ear. He was so close that she would’ve felt his breath if not for the helmet.

“Widen your stance.”

Her feet shuffled outwards, balancing her weight equally between the two. His left glove let go of her hip to take her hand, and brought it up to the blaster.

“Grip it tight with both hands.” His voice was hushed, making the words come out throaty and far more sexual than he’d originally intended.

River’s knees were turning into jelly. Mando’s hand returned to its spot on her hip, settling easily into place. The helmet pressed against the side of her head, and she shivered.

“Good,” he whispered.

She was burning against him. He knew she wanted it. He could hear her shallow breaths and see how the blaster shook in her hands.

“Then fire,” he said, dragging a finger from her far hip to the center of her lower belly, drawing her against him, breath stalling when he realized she wasn’t moving away.

“Mando...,” she shuddered, lips laced with breathy longing. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

She let herself lean back into him, closing any remaining distance as her eyes fluttered shut. His hands moved to hold her tighter to his body, crossing against her chest and stomach.

Her head was fucking spinning. The only thing keeping her grounded in reality were his hands, broad and fanned out across her, keeping her upright and pressed fervently to him.

He could’ve stayed like that, with her softly panting against him, until the proximity alarm rang for Vardos.

The child babbled behind them. River’s eyes flew open.

Mando took the blaster from her and placed it back in the cabinet. She swayed slightly after losing contact with his body, like her center of gravity had shifted.

The baby smiled up at her from the floor, waving his toy around to get noticed. She couldn’t help but smirk at him.

“Kiddo,” she said, sitting down on the floor, “you really have a way of stealing everyone’s attention.”

River watched him waddle around, picking up the tiny silver ball. He blinked at River and placed the damn thing in his mouth, ready to swallow. _Oh, shit._

“Hey, spit that out!” she chided, holding her hand under his chin. The kid opened up and plopped the slimy toy right out of his gullet and into her palm.

River heard the most incredible sound.

The Mandalorian’s laugh.

He shook his head, chuckling as he looked down at the pair with his arms crossed.

“It’s a miracle he hasn’t choked on that thing yet,” River commented, moving to the sink to rinse off her hand and the toy.

Mando scooped up the child, tucking him into his sleeping nook with his safer toys, before discreetly closing the partition. Without a second of hesitation, he moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her again.

His hips pressed her against the tiny sink reservoir, digging into her flesh. Her breath caught, releasing as a tiny sound of surrender low in her throat.

“Let the kid play on his own,” he huffed against the side of her neck. His hands drew up her sides, tracing the gentle slope of her waist.

His inhale was audible, “I need you to myself.”

River’s heart was slamming against her ribs. She was putty in the bounty hunter’s hands.

Removing his touch from her waist, he circled his hands directly in front of her. She watched in silent wonder as he removed one glove, and then the other, letting them drop into the basin before her.

His skin was golden brown despite never seeing the warmth of the sun. The knuckles were thick and calloused, pounded raw in places from wrestling his quarries into carbonite. She wanted them running all over her skin, surveying every scar and slope.

His touch returned to her waist, roaming up and down and around her midsection, inching up and pausing under the curve of her breasts, until River placed her own hands over his. He froze, unsure of what to do next.

Had he overstepped? What if this was all in his head? What if she wanted to stop? Doubt crashed over him like a collapsing cave as he waited for her response.

Slowly, almost painfully so, River guided his hands down to the hem of her sweatshirt. She curled his fingers up under hers, catching the edge of the fabric and gently dragging up, up, up, revealing more of her skin inch by inch.

“ _Maker,_ ” he breathed behind her. His cock twitched against her lower back.

Letting her hands fall away, she inhaled sharply as Mando pulled the thick fabric higher and higher until he slipped it over her head. She stood naked except for her underwear, exposed to the chilled air of the ship. The cold steel of his cuirass pressing against her bare shoulder blades made her jump at first. Mando’s hands shot out to her bare body again, holding her in place, pressing against him. The steel began to warm under her flesh.

“River,” he whispered, tracing a soft line through the valley between her breasts up to her collarbone. His other hand stayed pressed flat against her stomach, pinning her to the hard plates of his armor.

She shivered under his touch as molten desire pooled in her lower belly. Already, that primal need for his hands to travel lower, touching her where she really wanted it, rose up fiercely through her body.

His hand moved from her collarbone down to her breast, lightly skimming over the skin. She screwed her eyes shut and bit her lip, silently praying he’d touch her more, grab at her harder, make her squirm.

A whimper shot through her lips as he pinched a nipple, tweaking it between his fingers and groping at the weight of her breast.

She was impossibly soft. He didn’t remember women being this fucking soft. It was unfathomable.

A quiet sigh tumbled out of his lips as she wiggled against him, grinding her ass against his throbbing length. The hand on her stomach slid lower, dancing along the edge of her underwear, testing the waters before dipping farther down.

“Please,” she whimpered. “Touch me.”

Mando eased his hips off of her, granting him space to slip his hand between her body and the edge of the sink. His fingers traced down underneath her cotton panties, slipping over her folds.

_Fuck,_ she was wet. He almost couldn’t believe it. She canted her hips against his hand, trying to get him to _move_ , to give her what she wanted _._ He picked up on her cue, pressing the tips of his index and middle finger against her clit and rubbing a slow circle around it.

The sound she made was fucking heavenly, a breathy cry that shot searing lightning straight into Mando’s belly. His arm clamped her writhing body against his, palm pressed flat and unyielding across her sternum, anchoring her in place. She clawed at his forearm, nails slipping on the smooth vambrace, unable to dig in for leverage.

He slid his middle finger into her, curling up and keeping pressure on her clit with the rough heel of his hand. She shuddered and spasmed, folding forward to let a hand fly out and grip the far edge of the sink.

“So wet,” he growled against her. “How— h-how are you so… fucking... _stars,”_ he grunted.

The sound of his voice, jagged and gritty through the modulator, made River grind down on him even harder. She felt the beginnings of her orgasm build inside her, climbing through her hips into the base of her spine, coiling her insides up tight in anticipation.

The Mandalorian rutted his hips against her, and _oh,_ that was what that was. Not his tactical belt, she noted.

River thought about his cock, how thick and hard it felt even through the heavy canvas trousers he wore. She wished he’d pull back and unzip those pants, sheath himself in her right here at the sink, make her scream.

He rutted against her again, savoring the steady rocking of her hips against his hand, before settling into a matching rhythm. The feeling of him grinding against her, getting his own pleasure while fucking her with his fingers, pushed River even closer to the edge.

She grabbed his hand, the one tethering her body to his, and shoved two of his fingers into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the tips. _Gods,_ that was all she needed. The salty, leathery taste of his skin, the ragged moan he let out, the steady pressure of his hips against her, driving her hard against the sink…

“I’m gonna —” she gasped around his fingers, eyes rolling back as he picked up the pace.

“ _Do it_ ,” he growled, moving his hand to cradle her jaw.

At his command, River came, clenching down on him, letting her mouth fall open with a sensuous cry as her knuckles went white gripping the counter.

Not a second later, a clipped grunt sounded behind her as the Mandalorian’s hips stuttered against her ass. His release coated the inside of his clothing, warm and slick.

As the deafening sound of blood pumping in her ears subsided, River straightened back up, letting her breath come back to her in uneven inhales. The Mandalorian ran his hand down her neck, around her shoulder and tracing over the muscles of her back.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice just as feather light as his touches.

River turned around and brought one of his hands to her face, kissing the palm as her eyes bored into the darkened visor.

It was a perfect study in dichotomies - soft lips on calloused skin, nakedness pressed against full metal armor. Two burning stars, pulled together by the galaxy’s spinning gravity, slowly colliding in a brilliant cosmic flash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really excited to post the next chapter. Writing this has been infinitely more fun than the 17 DIY projects I’m putting off for my wedding, which is now officially eleven days away. LORDT HELP ME.


	4. Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mando is cashing in an off-the-books bounty in person on Vardos. River will be put to the test while they visit this former Imperial planet.

Mando sat in the pilot’s seat with the kid in his lap, navigating down through the planet’s atmosphere. He was silent, as usual, and seemed tense.

They hadn’t talked about what happened at the sink, nearly a full 24 hours ago at this point.

River was embarrassed. She had been so exposed, bent over and clenched around him. They’d only just met, not that that stopped her before. He came in his pants, to her disappointment; she would’ve rather that landed somewhere else.

And she didn’t know his name, or what he looked like. Maybe that was for the best, especially if he was planning on unceremoniously offloading her on Vardos instead of carrying out his “no more Rhet” plan.

She picked at her nails in the co-pilot’s seat, wondering if they’d crossed a line. How deep did his Creed go? Did he break the rules by taking his gloves off, or is it only his face that is off-limits? She thrilled at the thought of him fucking her in just the helmet.

“I don’t want to be here a moment longer than necessary,” he said, still focused on flying.

Mando didn’t like the idea of willingly landing on a former Imperial-controlled planet. There was no way to tell what sort of stronghold they still held until he stepped off the ship. It made him uneasy.

After landing, the three of them moved into the cargo hold where Mando stored his captured quarries.

“Who are you returning?” River asked, voice small and shy.

The bounty hunter walked up to the third block from the door, sliding it out of its place with a pneumatic hiss. A menacing, hulking Trandoshan was suspended in the frozen brick, his face screwed up mid-scream.

“Go into the cockpit and seal the door. Take the kid and your blaster. I need you to engage ground security protocols as soon as I’m out.” He was all business.

Adrenaline began pumping through River’s system. He wasn’t kidding. This was dangerous, and he was trusting her with the child.

No pressure.

“Go,” he said, moving into her space, filling her with the kind of intimidation she felt when they first met. “ _Now.”_

River backpedalled out of the cargo hold and into the common area, scooping up the baby and double-checking that her blaster was holstered in place, safety clicked off.

She gently shoved the baby up over the cockpit ledge, not wanting to fumble with climbing the ladder one-handed. Once they were both safely inside, she sealed the door, already hearing the Trandoshan’s snarls as he was released from his frozen hold.

A moment later, she heard the Mandalorian’s voice through the ship’s comms.

“We’re out. Lock it down,” he ordered. Her hands moved along the controls, engaging the proper security protocols.

Now she had to wait.

———

Vardos had quickly become a smuggler’s paradise. There were too few ‘troopers around to make a dent in the crime rate, and word spread.

Collecting the reward had been textbook. The Trandoshan defaulted on a debt to a smuggler outfit operating out of an abandoned Imperial shipyard, wiping the comms signatures off the Empire’s leftover spacecraft. The quarry’s hibernation sickness hadn’t worn off, rendering his attacks clumsy and blundering.

It was easy. Almost as easy as going through the proper channels with the Guild. Now all Mando had to do was make it back to the Crest before any remaining Imps - or rogue bounty hunters - caught wind of his presence. The streets of Vardos were quiet, eerily so. Tattered black and red banners bearing the Empire’s insignia fluttered in the wind.

The Crest was in sight when he heard the shuffling of feet behind him. He turned up the audio processing on his helmet, straining his ears to get a feel for who was sneaking up on him. There were at least two beings on his left, and one trailing just behind on his right. Mando kept walking, not giving any clues he’d heard them. His hand instinctively rested on the butt of his blaster.

In a flash, a ‘trooper in his scuffed Imperial armor lunged at him from the left. Mando swung his Amban rifle at him, delivering an electrifying shock to his chest as he approached.

Just behind the first buckethead was a second ‘trooper, already firing his blaster straight at Mando. He ducked the shots, obliterating the Imp into dust with his specialized rifle. The third former soldier charged at him, only to jump headfirst into a spray of fire delivered from Mando’s vambrace.

He was running now. Only one of the Imps was dead; their friends were no doubt on the way. His ship was right there, shining like a divine fortress in the distance, with the kid and River inside. From where he stood, it didn’t look like anyone had breached the hull. He hoped that was true.

Out of nowhere, another ‘trooper flew by on a speeder, firing at Mando and crashing into him as he whirred past. Knocked on his back and unable to pull air into his lungs, Mando fumbled for his blaster and began firing. His head was spinning from the impact, shots landing nowhere, and the speeder was headed straight for him again. The warm spread of blood trickled across his side, seeping under his chest plate.

In an incredible moment of sheer will, Mando rose to his feet and tore the ‘trooper from his speeder seat as he passed by, letting the unmanned craft spiral and explode against the side of a building. With one swift shot to the head, Mando climbed off the dead soldier and clawed his way back to the Crest.

“Disengage ground protocols,” he roared into his vambrace comms, limping forward. “Don’t leave the cockpit ‘til I say so.”

Mando didn’t want anyone following him aboard with the kid or the girl out in the open of the cargo hold. He was weakened, injured, and unable to stop something truly bad from happening if he had to.

With several hissing gas blasts and a familiar rumble, the ramp lowered and Mando dragged himself inside. He leaned against the wall, keeping an eye out for any of the Stormtroopers’ buddies, as he closed the ramp again.

“Re-engage protocols,” he panted into the comms. “And come down to cargo with a cauterizer.”

River didn’t think she’d ever moved faster in her life. She saw the scene unfold in front of the Razor Crest, the unmitigated prowess he’d displayed. She tumbled into the cargo hold with the baby and the tool, completely overwhelmed at the sight of him. This warrior, this unrivaled fighter, sat slumped against the hull of his ship, pulling in ragged breaths, _bleeding._

“Put the kid away,” he ordered, voice like gravel. “And get us the hell off this planet.”

She handed him the cauterizer with a shaky grip, moving swiftly and wordlessly to follow his commands. The baby went into his nook, clearly upset by the commotion around him, and River climbed into the cockpit once again.

Settling into the chair, she warmed the engines, praying they’d come to temperature quickly. She did the safety routine she remembered from pilot school - checking flight controls, fuel pumps, parking brakes, external doors, disengaging ground security for a second time. The motions came back to her easily even in this frenzied state.

Outside the cockpit window, she saw a group of five more ‘troopers advancing on speeders. Her pupils widened, heart plummeting into her intestines.

“Mando,” she yelled on the comms, “more are coming.”

She revved the engines, their roar ripping through the electric air.

His voice crackled over the console, “Fire if you have to. Go.”

Flipping the switch to engage the thrusters, River gripped the control sticks, maneuvering as fast as she could up and out of the towering skyline of Vardos.

“Shiiiit, shitshitshit. Oh, shit!” she squeaked, seeing blaster fire streak red up the sides of the ship.

River veered around the abandoned skyscrapers and comms towers, hoping to the gods above she didn’t hit anything. The ship listed side to side as she fumbled with the Crest’s unique quirks, its sensitivities and shortcomings, all while trying to keep them _alive._

Once they broke the atmosphere, she set the coordinates for Nar Shaddaa.

By herself.

Willingly.

She took a moment to stare at the navigation display, to take in this moment.

She was going back to the one place she swore she’d never return to. Her fingers traced over the edges of the console as she absorbed it, this feeling of trust and bravery, of teamwork and hope. With a deep breath, she pushed the hyperdrive lever forward, letting the stars collapse around her.

Mando’s voice crackled again, “Come down.”

She heard a weakness in his voice, a desperation that was clear even through two layers of modulation.

“N-need,” he stuttered, “need help.”

River scrambled, practically tripping over the pilot’s seat as she ran down to the cargo hold. Mando was still crumpled against the wall with his chest plate removed and his legs stretched heavily in front of him. He was twisted around unnaturally, trying to cauterize a massive gash on his side.

His canvas tunic was ripped open over his ribs and blood-soaked, exposing another layer of crimson red fabric beneath. River felt woozy at the sight of it. Under those layers and all the gore was his skin, golden and star-kissed just like his hands.

And he bled. This warrior, this undefeatable Mandalorian, bled trying to protect and provide for his foundling. Pure adrenaline took over.

River ran to the wall and tore the medkit from its cubby, pulling out a pair of shears. She moved to his shirt to start cutting it, giving herself more room to work.

His gloved hand came down and clamped around her wrist, weaker than his grip usually was.

“Don’t,” he gasped. “I can’t— you can’t s-see.”

River dropped the shears, opting to run her hand up the inside of his shirt to pinch the gash shut as she took over on cauterizing it closed. Mando groaned and convulsed in pain as she worked. Each gasp and jerk of his body made River want to sob.

“Stay with me, Mando,” she grunted. “We’re almost done.”

She trapped her shaking lip between her teeth, blinking through hot tears as she knitted her brows in concentration. Finally, she made that last burning connection, tossing the bloody cauterizer to the side and pulling out some soothing bacta wipes from the kit.

“Shhh,” she whispered. River was trying to calm herself as much as she was trying to calm Mando. Her hands were shaking so fucking hard she could barely clean him off. Her skin was stained a screaming shade of fuchsia with his blood, caught under her nails and smeared like crimson paint on the metal deck.

She didn’t realize she was crying. Big, fat tears streamed down her face and her nose was leaking.

Mando looked at her and felt a heavy kind of sympathy. The comedown from riding so high on adrenaline was always rough, sometimes even for him. He swiped the wetness of her cheek with a broad stroke of his gloved thumb. The material smelled like blaster fire and leather conditioner and coppery blood.

River couldn’t let herself break down. She had to get Mando up and re-dressed, fed and watered, healed. Nar Shaddaa was only three hours away. They were too close for her to be on her own, without his help. She felt herself spiraling.

“We have to get you up,” she pressed through her phlegmy, wobbling voice. “Can you stand?”

River stood and tried pulling at the Mandalorian, failing to get him to budge. He raised a hand in soft protest.

“Just sit here with me,” he breathed. “For a while.”

He shifted to sit up more fully, holding his breath to brace against the pain shooting down his side. The bacta would work quickly, making movement easier as time passed.

But for now, he was content to let it work its magic while he rested in place. River sat back down and took his hand, squeezing it harder than she meant to. The Mandalorian’s chest rose and fell at slower and calmer increments as they leaned against the cold durasteel, silently holding each other’s hands.

River could see the outlines of his chest muscles through the canvas tunic, how his body tapered down to his hips. She wanted to run her hands across him, feel the warmth of him under her fingertips, imagine how it would feel to be sprawled out on top of his torso.

She replayed his words in her head.

_You can’t see._

She thought about his Creed, how much she didn’t know and never would. Maybe his words were just a knee-jerk reaction to being patched up after battle. Maybe he didn’t mean it, maybe she would get to see one day.

River didn’t know what to say, so she was thankful when Mando finally broke the silence.

“You’re a good pilot,” he offered quietly, running a thumb over the top of her hand.

She let out a nervous laugh, one that racked her shoulders as it rattled up her ribs, trying to shake loose the tension.

“Hope I’m a good medic, too.”

———

The music thumped through the cockpit, loud and rattling as she paced and watched the nav system blink them closer and closer towards Nar Shaddaa.

Her anxiety was through the fucking roof. The baby sat in his pram, nodding his fuzzy head to the beat and watching the stars, totally unaware of River’s borderline manic breakdown.

Mando carefully pulled himself up over the cockpit ledge, feeling better after taking the time to eat, shower, and change into fresh clothes.

“How long do we have?” he asked.

River’s shoulders were up around her ears, fingernails digging into her palms as she turned to him.

“Less than sixty kriffing minutes,” she spat. “Mando - I don’t think I… fuck, I can’t —”

She spun around to face the console with a frustrated grunt, her fingers digging into her temples. She couldn’t find the words to say she was terrified. Did she even have a right to be this scared, after seeing Mando act so bravely in battle just a couple hours ago? She felt like an idiot.

In her periphery, she saw a gloved hand shut off the music. The silence of hyperspace swallowed her whole, ringing in her ears.

Two warm, gloved hands spun her back around towards him, moving up her shoulders to cradle her face. His helmet tipped down, as if to stare right into her eyes.

“Stop,” he ordered. “It’s going to be fine.”

River sighed and looked to the side, trying to squirm away to continue stewing in her stress. Mando’s grip barely tightened around her jaw.

“River, look at me.”

She stilled, bringing her fiery gaze back to him, trying not to lash out over his demand. _Look at me_. Kriff, even if she wanted to, how could she through the beskar? It wasn’t a fair request.

“We’re not seeing him tonight,” he softened. “I’ll send the message to meet tomorrow, somewhere we can’t get ambushed.”

River drew in a breath.

“So what’s the plan? What are we doing when we land?”

Mando looked over to the pram with the child and released his hold on her chin.

“Are you comfortable finding safe lodging for tonight, or would you rather stay on the ship?”

River pondered this. Real lodging would mean a real bed, a real refresher instead of this bizarre tilted vac tube, real food. It also meant being out in the open on Nar Shaddaa, in Rhet’s territory.

“I want to stay on the ship,” she said, bringing a hand up to grip Mando’s wrist, running her fingers over the spot where his vambrace didn’t cover his fresh shirt.

He drew her closer to him, pressing his helmet against her forehead. He smelled like clean linen and soap.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Ship it is.”

River bit her lip. “You still have to tell me the plan.”

Mando rubbed her shoulders with firm, reassuring hands, sending a wave of warmth down her body.

“I will, after I get us settled,” he compromised. “Go clean yourself up. I’ll handle the approach.”

River nodded, looking down at her hands, still stained with his blood - a part of him marking a part of her.

———

Slurping sounds filled the cockpit as they ate - noodles for River and broth for the baby.

“You know, kid,” she sighed, “I used to love this place. In a past life.”

He blinked up at her from his perch in her lap, taking another sip from the mug warming his tiny hands. The lights of Nar Shaddaa shone into the space, bouncing off the walls and control panels. Floating holograms rotated around the towering cityscape, advertising currency exchanges, restaurant specials, adult entertainment options. Things were not glamorous around the spaceport’s offsite parking plot, but was anything on this planet?

River sighed and slurped more noodles. She’d convinced Mando to let a service droid deliver them some grub from her favorite takeout spot. It tasted like good memories, like late nights and laughs after a long shift. She’d forgotten that she even held any fondness for this place until it was lit up and sparkling in front of her, wafting up her nose and painting the spaces behind her eyelids.

After finishing their meals, River laid the baby in his pram and closed the lid, letting him get some shut eye. She stretched out over the main console, resting her chin atop folded arms.

She thought about her old job, how her former coworkers were doing, if the club was even open still.

Mando came in, standing in place next to River to look out the window.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his sight trained on the scene outside the transparisteel.

River rolled her eyes playfully. “I should be asking you that.”

He shifted, facing her, coming to lean his hip against the cockpit’s controls.

“Barely a scratch,” he deflected. “I’m fine.”

She sighed, coming up from her stretched position to lean back in the pilot’s chair.

“Tell me the plan,” she said. A determination was setting along her jaw, steeling the muscles in concentration.

Mando crossed his arms. “We’ll meet him about a mile from here in a vacant building. I told him I’m on a tight timeline and to come alone.”

River’s veins turned to ice. “You talked to him?”

The helmet barely nodded. She shuddered and looked away, biting the edge of her thumb nail. Of course they talked; Rhet was his client. The thought of it turned her stomach.

“I’m going to scout the meetup point once port traffic dies down. I don’t want any surprises. When it’s time to hand you off to him —”

River bristled at that. He put a hand on her shoulder and softened his voice.

“I won’t let him go far. I’ll be right behind you, ready to take him out. We’ll make it look straightforward to avoid suspicion.”

River’s mind raced with a million different outcomes and probabilities, all melding together into a flurry of images. Mando lowered to his knee, placing a hand on her thigh. The blank canvas of his helmet offered no comfort, no indication of how he was handling all this.

It wasn’t until the synthesizer crackled with a breath that she got any idea.

“Do you trust me?” His voice was a quiet prayer.

Her eyes were glassy, reflecting back the prisms of light and color bouncing from the window to his beskar.

“Yes,” she replied, the word flying from her mouth feather-soft and delicate, a chiming of crystal bells.

She swore up and down that she’d never trust another man ever again. But this was different.

This felt real.

———

She tossed and turned in her bunk, replaying the plan, waiting for him to return from his scouting mission. It had been nearly two hours since he’d left.

Her dreams in this half-awake, half-asleep state were a mess. She’d picture inked fists colliding with her nose and gasp back into reality. Succumbing again to her fatigue, she’d swear she could feel the soul-burning warmth of Mando’s bare arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to him, only to wake up sighing and glimmering with sweat.

It was useless.

Mando’s visit to the meetup point was uneventful. He checked for any potential dangers, closed off possible hiding spaces, and committed his path of travel to memory. He even hid a rented speeder nearby, in case the chase elevated beyond what he could handle on foot.

It was far beyond any normal precaution he took, but he couldn’t afford for this plan to go south. He was going to stay good on his word, no matter what.

He got back to the Crest feeling confident, letting a determined swagger work its way up his limbs.

He parted the curtain to River’s cabin and found her fast asleep, back turned to the door. He shut off all the lights to the ship and considered joining her in bed, burying his bare face in her soft black hair.

He stepped closer, drawing in the scent of her, as he remembered how good she felt wrapped around his fingers, warm and pliable, trembling with want and crying out the only name she had for him. He grew harder just thinking about it.

As quietly as he could, Mando removed his gloves and beskar, carefully placing the pieces on a storage crate before finally removing his helmet. He stood at the edge of her mattress in his canvas under-armor, listening to the sound of her even breaths as she slept. His heart thudded heavily in his chest.

Gently peeling back the blanket, he climbed into the bunk and molded himself to her, letting his body melt against the soft curves. She shifted and made a low, vulnerable sound as he slid his arm into the valley of her waist, pulling her flush against his chest.

He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply, swearing to the gods he’d never smelled anything so sweetly intoxicating.

River wasn’t sure if she was still dreaming. She stirred against him, relishing in the warmth and closeness, arching her back to tangle their legs together at the ankles. It was fucking bliss, being held like this, feeling enveloped in care and adoration. His hot breath rolled down her collarbone as she felt the press of his lips to her skin. Her eyes bolted open.

It was pitch fucking black, the kind of deep, immobilizing darkness that makes your head spin. She felt for the soft vibrations of the motors to be sure they were still planted on terra firma.

“M- Mando?”

He hummed against her neck, wrapping himself tighter around her.

The armor was off. The _helmet_ was off. Rough canvas rubbed against her bare legs and the thin cotton of her t-shirt.

“You— why are you— where’s your armor?” She was flabbergasted.

He nipped at the skin of her neck, earning a delicious little gasp, before rolling his tongue over the playful bite.

“Didn’t feel like wearing it,” he said matter-of-factly, massaging his wide open palm against her hip.

“A-and your helmet?” She was having trouble breathing, trouble processing everything going on. He was here, in her bunk, in just his canvas layers. Oh, _fuck._ She didn’t think she could control herself like this, being this close to him.

“Couldn’t do this with it on,” he huffed, trailing kisses down her neck to her shoulder, pulling the fabric down to expose more of her smooth skin. His voice was the same, but different, without the modulation - more robust, a deeper richness to it than she was used to. It made her hot, sending a rush of wetness to her center.

She wiggled against him, reveling in the feeling of his incredibly plush lips running along her neck, licking and biting and sucking as he went. His bare fingers traced lines up and down her torso, dancing between her breasts, pausing to cup one and rub a thumb over her nipple.

“ _Stars,_ ” she sighed, feeling his hardened cock press against her back as she arched into him.

He spun her around to face him, readjusting her in his grip. River brought her hands up his arms, feeling the corded muscles of his biceps and shoulders, before letting her fingertips wander to his neck. She paused at the jaw, imagining some invisible line in the sand she shouldn’t cross.

“Can I —”

“Keep going,” he said. He knew what she wanted to ask. Hells, even if he didn’t know, even if he’d incorrectly assumed, he didn’t care. He’d agree to anything she ever wanted.

He had let very few others touch him this way, learning the lines and textures of his face through feeling rather than sight. She ghosted up his jaw, feeling the stubble there, to his cheekbones, high and strong and prominent. His eyebrows were oddly soft, feathering under her fingers. They framed thick, long lashes that fanned across his smooth lids, sweeping out to the fine lines at the corners of his eyes. His wide nose was slightly crooked, no doubt broken many times in battle, and his lips - oh, Maker, his lips - were full and pouty, softer than she imagined.

He softly kissed her fingertips as they traced the lines of his lower lip, catching and skidding across the skin. She raked her hands back into his thick, wavy hair and twisted her fingers into it, softly tugging him towards her.

Slowly, like two planets gradually drawing together over eons, they kissed. They breathed into each other as if the only oxygen in the galaxy existed between their open mouths, exploring and covering every inch. Tongues slid deliciously together, swirling in an infinite cosmic dance, giving way to soft bites and rocking hips. His hands drew up her sides, pulling her shirt off her body, drifting back down to tease her breasts and drag down her ribs.

River and Mando kissed for what felt like ages, making out like teenagers until their lips were raw and swollen, moaning and sighing into each other as they pawed at skin and canvas. Her hips kept rocking against his muscular leg, working herself up until she was trembling and softly panting against him, in desperate need of release.

Languid kisses trailed down her chest and stomach as Mando shifted lower on the bunk, rolling her onto her back.

“I want to taste you,” he grunted against her, digging his blunt nails down her sides. Her hips twitched up in response.

“ _Ye_ _s,”_ she whimpered. “Need your tongue on me.”

He let out a hot huff of air as his hands drew down, slipping her underwear down her legs and tossing them to the side. He bit flesh above the inside of her knee, making her arch off the bed and cry out, seeing stars behind her eyes.

He hummed in satisfaction against her, slowly mouthing his way closer and closer to her center, licking her everywhere but where she needed him. Her hips swung against the mattress, tucking up into the air, trying to make contact with something, _anything_ to feel that sweet friction.

“Wish I could see you, spread open like this,” he groaned, dipping a finger into her folds before pulling it away, feeling her slick cover the skin. He took in a sharp breath. “Bet you look so fucking good, all wet and ready for me.”

He swiped a broad stroke of his flattened tongue against the length of her slit, pulling away before reaching her clit. River was gasping, unable to take in a normal breath.

She heard him mutter something in Mando’a, probably a swear from the way it lurched out of his lungs. A fresh flush of blood bloomed across her neck and chest as she thought about that, how much she had him worked up, how he was surrendering to this heady, dense lust between them.

“Please,” she whimpered, as she tangled her fingers through his hair, pulling him to where she wanted.

His tongue flicked out, drawing a slow circle around River’s clit. She shuddered under him, nearly shattering with how fucking incredible it felt.

“Is that what you want?”

Air burned her throat and lungs as she inhaled to speak. “ _Yessss.”_

He dove in, pinning her to the mattress with his broad, calloused hands as he lapped at her, letting her grind her hips against his face and pull his hair as hard as she wanted. She was a blubbering, swearing mess with his head between her thighs, letting him suck the most intimate parts of her into his mouth, savor her in this way.

Without warning, he plunged two thick fingers into her heat, stretching her as she gasped. All it took was one, two, three firm thrusts before she was collapsing, throttling hot and hard off the sheared cliff of her orgasm, twitching and moaning as he licked her through it.

As her walls relaxed their vice grip on his fingers, Mando slowly withdrew them, sliding over her clit one more time to hear her mewl, before shoving both digits into his mouth. She caught her breath as he kept tasting her, devouring every drop of her off his skin.

“Holy fuck,” she breathed. “H-how… Sweet Maker, you are just— ”

Mando laughed, deep and rumbling in his chest, as he moved back up the bed to lay beside her. River’s hands found his cloth-covered body in the dark, running her touch over him as their lips connected once more.

“You should sleep,” he muttered against her, sweeping his fingers up into her hair.

River took in a deep breath, letting it fully relax her liquefied muscles. “But I want to return the favor,” she whined, running her hand down to his hard member.

His fingers circled her wrist, stopping her in place. He throbbed under her hand.

“Tomorrow,” he said through another kiss, subtly hitching his hips to feel more pressure. Fuck, he wanted it, but, “Sleep.”

She squeezed his cock. “But I —”

With a firm and steady grip, Mando moved her hand off his crotch and to her side.

“ _Tomorrow_ ,” he repeated. “Go. To. Sleep.”

He kissed her on the forehead, leaving a fluttering, fuzzy feeling in River’s stomach, and slid out of her bed.

Tomorrow, she repeated silently, curling up in the blanket. Tomorrow she would have to be the bravest she’s ever been. Tomorrow she’d have to face the worst person she knew and put all her trust in this faceless, nameless Mandalorian.

Tomorrow. She knew they would win. She believed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kudos and incredible comments. You make me smile.
> 
> Chapter Five is a doozy. I’m on my fourth or fifth round of edits on it and it’s a behemoth - almost 6,000 words. I can’t wait to share when it’s ready.


	5. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River often wondered what it would be like to see Rhet again - what she would say, what the circumstances would be, how she’d feel.
> 
> The best laid plans of past lovers and armored men often go awry. Will hope and trust be enough?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, y’all. This one is a monster. It is 6,200+ words, so settle in and enjoy.
> 
> CW: Graphic depictions of violence are abundant here, as well as some really nasty name-calling and descriptions of physical, mental, and sexual abuse. If you are triggered by these, please skip down to the end of the chapter for some delightfully naughty cockpit smut and join us next time.

River was buzzing with nervous energy, crackling like a live wire. Each step thrummed up from the sole of her boots to the crown of her head, reverberating in her bones, a high voltage current with nowhere to discharge.

A tracker was planted in her left pocket in case anything went awry; her knife, the one Mando confiscated when he took her in, was clipped into her right pocket - a less conspicuous choice than a borrowed blaster. When she woke up in the morning, she’d found it sitting atop her bedside storage crate. He had placed it there reverently, like an offering on an altar while she slept, tangled and naked in the sheets.

The warehouse loomed at the end of the street in a relatively quiet industrial complex. Graffiti marred the sides of the buildings; stray trash littered the musty gutters and storm drains. The stagnant air smelled like oil and rust, matching the yellowed, polluted tint of fading sunlight.

The Mandalorian just barely turned his helmet towards her, imperceptible to anyone who may be watching. He felt an odd sense of pride at how she was carrying herself, with her wrists bound, shoulders pushed back, chin level and strong.

She didn’t give herself enough credit. She looked capable and ready, like a warrior headed for a hard battle she knew she would win. There was a word in his native tongue that described it perfectly - _ramikadyc._

He thought she’d pause at the entryway to the meeting point, that she’d want to steady herself with a deep breath or a subtle look in his direction. She didn’t. River charged right through, in step with Mando, slowing only to let her eyes adjust to the darkness of the space.

Her heart rate jumped several notches when she saw him.

Rhet was leaned against the side of a speeder bike, exhaling a heavy cloud of smoke. It hung between them like a vengeful spirit, a ghost of a scorned lover. His hair was just barely longer than the day she left, jet black like hers, tucked behind his large ears. His dark eyes glinted at her, sizing her up.

“Mesa,” he droned, his voice still the low, predatory drawl that haunted her at night. “Nice hair.”

He flicked his t’bac butt, easing himself up off the bike, and approached her slowly, surveying her like cornered prey. Mando felt himself tense as he came closer, watching intently as the two interacted.

Anger and regret boiled in River’s blood, threatening to spill over. She spat on his shoes.

“Fuck you,” she growled, baring her teeth to him.

Rhet chuckled, looking down at her spit sliding off the top of his black boot.

“Little bird… I told you I’d find you.” He circled around her, throwing a glance up to Mando. “Didn’t think I’d need to send a kriffin’ _Mandalorian_ to finally do it. Where’d you pick her up?”

Mando turned his helmet to Rhet, thankful the beskar could conceal his scowl. He was somehow exactly what he’d envisioned - arrogant and cocky, overly concerned with looking tougher than everybody else. He was a cockroach best exterminated under Mando’s heavy boot.

“A cantina on Horuz.”

That really made Rhet laugh, deep and bellowing. He tipped back on his heels, letting his voice bounce off the walls of the warehouse as he slapped a hand down on River’s shoulder.

“ _Horuz,_ Mesa? Really?” He circled back in front of her, roughly gripping her chin in his hand, grinning wide down at her. “Can’t say I’m surprised about the cantina. How does the saying go again? You can take the slut out of Nar Shaddaa…?”

He turned her face side to side in his grasp, inspecting her. The pent-up violence in her was crackling, vibrating through her veins, pushing furious tears to the surface of her eyes. Her knuckles had turned white from clenching her fists so tight in the binders. Rhet drew his hand down the length of her neck, dropping his icy gaze to her restraints.

She had dreamed of this day so many times, of what she would say to him. Her voice was an echo in her mind, repeating over and over with less and less strength. Not a single word was coming up as planned. It was like they were trapped in her voice box, banging against the locked door.

“Don’t be scared, love,” he softened, stroking her face. “I only had a year to think about how I’ll punish you.”

The violence inside her reared its head, forcing a heavy tear to tumble down her cheek. Rhet smiled, wiping it away with a finger before — _smack._

He backhanded her hard enough to knock her off balance, to make her see stars as she tumbled to the ground.

It took every bit of restraint for Mando to not kill him instantly. But the bounty hunter had already thought through this.

He wasn’t going to kill Rhet.

He was going to leave that choice up to River.

“I don’t need to hang around for your foreplay,” Mando interjected, cloaking the pain in his tone. “Pay up and I’ll be on my way.”

Rhet chucked, devilishly staring down at River as he took a pouch full of credits out of his jacket, shoving the bundle into the bounty hunter’s open hand.

“Here. Now uncage this bird,” he barked.

River shot Mando a look as she shuffled back onto her feet, spitting blood to the side. He shoved the credits into his belt pouch and faked annoyance as he entered the code into the cuffs, unlocking them.

The Mandalorian tried to convey all his bravery through the beskar, delivering it straight into River’s heart as he looked at her, as if it was a palpable commodity to be traded.

She saw her reflection in the smooth metal. A garish purple bruise was already forming along her cheek and eye socket, speckled with a constellation of broken capillaries. She steeled her brows, unwilling to flinch even through the pain of this facial expression.

Mando clipped the binders to his belt and turned on his heel for the exit, leaving Rhet and River alone in the warehouse. It was a familiar sensation for her, this feeling of helplessness in his presence.

“I don’t know what shocks me more,” he said, looking her up and down. “That you actually left, or that you _survived_ once you did.”

She swallowed, digging her nails into her palms.

“You know you’re nothing without me,” he muttered into her ear. “Just a naive girl from nowhere, too broken for anyone to love.”

“You’re the one who did this to me,” she snarled. “You fucking broke me. I was _normal_ , I was _happy_ before I met you.” Her voice cracked.

With a soft, smirking exhale, Rhet dragged his finger over River’s quaking lip. Her blood turned to ice, numbing her limbs.

She remembered this, too. She remembered so vividly how it felt to succumb to this, to turn off the part of her brain that wanted to fight, to go totally blank while he was like this. _Just close your eyes and it will be over soon._

“You were never meant to be normal,” he whispered.

Calm and calculated, Rhet pulled a comlink from his pocket and brought it to his mouth.

“It’s done,” he said. “Get him.”

River’s stomach dropped, and the room began spinning. Her ice cold body thawed in an instant, suddenly feeling like her skin was too tight and stifling to house all of her aggression.

He fucking set him up. The son of a bitch set Mando up.

———

He had to move fast. Mando’s boots carried him quickly through the alleyway, eyes trained on the spot where he’d hidden the rented covered speeder. The pauses between the tracker’s beeps had started lengthening, letting him know that River was already on the back of Rhet’s bike.

Just a few meters away from the hidden alcove, a hulking Twi’lek charged at him, knocking him to the ground. Before he could react, another massive human body collided with the bounty hunter, pinning him down and grabbing at his belt pouch.

Mando twisted, reaching for his blaster and pointing it at his assailant, but he was too late. The barrel of the Twi’lek’s blaster was pressed against the underside of Mando’s chin, digging into the fabric of his high collar. A standoff, at the worst possible moment.

“Cool it, Mando,” the human sneered, before ripping the bundle of credits from his belt. “We’ll be taking this back.”

The thug jingled the heavy pouch in front of his helmet, laughing as he pocketed it in his vest.

“Hey, Bugs,” the Twi’lek nodded toward his accomplice. “You ever wonder why these Mandalorian’s wear helmets?”

Mando’s stomach clenched into a fist. He tightened the grip on his blaster.

The human laughed, hard enough to shake the fattened jowls hanging from his face, and continued rummaging through Mando’s pockets. “Probably uglier than the backside of a bantha.”

“Wanna find out?” the Twi’lek snickered, moving a hand to slide the steel over his head.

It all happened so quickly. As the helmet budged just an inch, Mando fired two blasts - first to the Twi’lek’s arm and second right in the human’s gut. He rolled out from their holds, taking back the credits and sprinting for the covered speeder.

———

River didn’t know what to do. The blade in her pocket felt impossibly heavy, like a weight she was too weak to lift herself.

Her skin crawled when she’d wrapped her arms around Rhet’s waist, purely out of necessity to keep from falling off the back of his bike. There was a time - eons ago it seemed - when she’d loved this. She’d run her hands along his thighs while he drove, working him up until he’d pull over and bend her over the saddle. She shuddered at the thought of ever being that close to him.

Rhet turned the bike down a familiar alleyway. She knew exactly where they were headed - back to his gang’s garage in Old Duros. Minutes felt like hours as she held her breath, hoping every second that Mando would turn the corner and save her.

She closed her eyes and let the lights of Nar Shaddaa blur behind her lids, imagining she was back on the Razor Crest, dozing off in hyperspace.

He had to come. He promised he was going to.

The bike slowed, stopping at the raised metal door of the garage. The sound of boisterous, drunken voices and loud music pulled River back to reality.

“What’s going on?” she asked, hopping off the speeder. She discreetly brushed her hands over her pockets to check for the knife and tracker.

A twisted smile pulled at the corner of Rhet’s mouth.

“It’s your welcome party.”

River crossed her arms and stared at him.

“What?” he shrugged, moving towards her. “You don’t party anymore? Thought I knew you better than that, Mesa.”

If looks could kill, Rhet would’ve been sliced and diced like chopped moof liver. River uncrossed her arms and cocked her chin towards his jacket pocket, where she knew he kept his t’bac.

“Why don’t we share a smoke first?” she asked, letting her gaze rake up his chest to his lips to his dark eyes. “You and I have a lot to catch up on.”

She licked her own lips slowly, trying to keep him distracted. She wanted to delay going inside as long as possible, to stay visible outside of the garage.

Rhet let out an amused exhale and dug a hand into his pocket, fishing out the t’bac and a lighter.

River put one to her lips and leaned forward for Rhet to ignite the end. Their eyes met, both reflecting their faces back to each other in the flickering orange glow of the flame.

River inhaled and held the smoke in as she spoke, “Like old times, isn’t it?”

She was stalling and hoped he didn’t notice. The party felt like a trap. She knew better than to trust him.

Rhet smiled, exhaling his first drag of the rolled t’bac. “Horuz, huh? I thought Vader blew that one up, too.”

River raised her eyebrows and released her breath, expelling a thin stream of smoke from her mouth and nose.

“Nope,” she ashed her t’bac to the side, shooting him a defiant look. “Not nearly special enough for that.”

A beat passed between them. Rhet sized her up once more, carefully appraising her like a shipment of spice.

“How many men did you fuck while you were there?” he stalked closer to her.

River pulled the t’bac back up to her lips, letting it rest between her fingers. Tendrils of smoke danced between their faces.

“Oh, _everyone_ ,” she regaled with biting sarcasm. “I spread my legs for every single man on that desolate kriffing planet. You wanna know why?”

Rhet swallowed and inched closer. He forcefully yanked back the fabric of her sleeve, exposing the burn marks he’d given her.

He traced his fingers over them, transfixed by how they’d healed at different increments, how they left spotted patterns of varying shape and color. They were marks, he’d told her, ones she’d have to explain to any man she dared to be with after him. He had branded her forever.

“Because you’re a filthy fucking whore?” he spat.

She took another drag, letting the smoke layer thickly over her voice.

“Exactly, Rhet. It’s all I’m good for, right?”

Her secondhand smoke streamed straight into his face, wafting over his angular features. His hand moved swiftly from her forearm to her throat, wrapping around her neck and slamming her back against the metal wall. The voices inside the garage stopped for a moment, hearing the loud crash.

One rang out from the group, “Oi, Rhet, you back?”

He was shaking in anger, crushing River’s windpipe with his inked hand as she flailed against the cold wall.

“Yeah, mate,” he yelled back. “Brought my girl, too.”

Uproarious laughter erupted inside. River’s throat was being constricted so badly she couldn’t even take in the air to speak.

“Bring her in then!” another voice yelled, starting off a chain of raucous agreement.

Rhet battered his lips against hers, driving the lit end of his t’bac into her arm. River gasped against his mouth, tearing her knife from her pocket. In one swift motion, she flipped the blade and plunged it into his leg, hearing his pathetic howl.

Rhet recoiled, stunned and raving with wild eyes, and shoved her inside the garage at the feet of his cronies. They circled around her, sneering and ready to attack.

At that exact moment, like a phantom shadow apparating out of the darkened night, the Mandalorian charged towards Rhet, pummeling him into the ground with a loud thud. With one lightning-fast punch to the side of the head, he was out fucking cold, splayed out like a corpse.

Mando turned his helmet towards the garage door and nodded towards River, barely perceptible, before he launched into attack.

Blaster fire exploded around her. Streaks of red lit up the clouds of smoke still hanging in the air, sparking off of durasteel walls and parked speeders. It was six against one - four of Rhet’s comrades and two of their women.

“Get in the speeder,” he shouted to River, sliding an extra blaster across the floor into her hand.

She crouched low, scurrying as fast as she could to the nearby idled vehicle. She climbed in and peeked over the door, her blaster trained on the scene unfolding in front of her.

The two girls had retreated, hiding behind a toppled table as they clung to each other. River didn’t recognize them.

She felt a pang of sympathy. When she first got involved with Rhet, the terror she’d felt when fights materialized around her was paralyzing. One day, it became normal. She prayed they were smart enough to let this scare them off.

The other men, though, were not giving up the chance to fight. River only recognized one of them - Drill, one of Rhet’s oldest friends. He was an impressive fighter and known for brutally torturing anyone who crossed him or the gang. Seeing him again made her stomach lurch.

Mando made quick work of taking down the two smallest guys with pinpoint accurate shots to the chest. Drill, and a towering Zabrak who River had never seen before, closed in on Mando. The Zabrak man swung at him with a long metal wrench, clanging against his armor on impact.

Mando whipped his sniper rifle around, blocking more of his shots while jabbing him in the ribs with the butt. Drill moved behind Mando, boxing him in and recovering quickly from the swift back-kick that was delivered to his hips.

Mando shocked the Zabrak with his rifle and swung back the butt again to knock Drill off balance. The thug lost his grip on his blaster and grabbed ahold of Mando’s cape on the way down, pulling his body with him in a loud, metallic clamor. Mando kicked the dropped weapon across the floor, sending it skidding to the back of the room.

The two men rolled around on the ground, wrestling and throwing punches, trying to subdue the other. Drill, the drunk bastard, was clumsier than usual. He pinned Mando to the ground and tried prying his vambrace off his forearm, noticing the blaster attachments, only to set loose a stream of fire that sent him scrambling backwards.

Regaining his footing, Mando stalked over to Drill, delivering one final kick to his head. His feet and hands dropped heavy and motionless, like a rag doll, against the concrete - not dead, but soon to be. Mando fired a final shot directly into his chest, finishing his work.

He turned to the speeder and saw River peeking up over the door, eyes wide and drinking it all in. He noticed she’d held the blaster with both hands, like he told her. Rhet’s blood was splattered across her right forefingers.

Mando approached Rhet’s unconscious body and hooked his hands under his armpits, dragging him back to the speeder.

With a clatter, one of the girls stumbled out from behind the table, pointing the kicked blaster at Mando. It shook in her hands as she aimed.

“Don’t fucking move!” she screamed. The fear in her voice was obvious, despite the intimidating tone she tried to emulate.

Mando’s shoulders slumped in a frustrated exhale. Moving one hand to unholster his blaster, he let Rhet hang lopsided in his grasp as he aimed back at the girl.

“Drop the weapon,” he commanded, steady and unbothered, giving her a moment to comply. “Now, or you’re dead.”

The girl trembled and lowered the gun, placing it on the floor.

“Good,” he affirmed, replacing his own weapon.

“Tell your buddies Rhet had a bounty on his head, one I’m collecting. And let this serve as a warning,” he paused, motioning to the knocked out and bloodied bodies, presumably their boyfriends. “If any of your friends come for him, or for Mesa… they’ll answer to me.”

The girl swallowed a visible lump in her throat, retreating back into the shadow of the garage to soothe her groaning date, the Zabrak man, rolling in pain on the floor. The second girl wailed, seeing her companion with a blaster hole in his chest.

The speeder swayed and shifted as Mando dropped Rhet’s comatose form into the backseat. He moved to the front, situating himself at the wheel, and looked to River.

“Real gem, this guy,” he joked, hitching a thumb towards Rhet’s slumped body.

River laughed, a shaking, cathartic rumble that pushed fresh tears towards her eyes.

She felt like she could explode. She was vindicated, unchained, soaring, floating in free fall _._ The crackling, frayed nerves from earlier had given way to unbridled wonder, total gratitude, _pride_. She was practically heaving with it.

It fucking worked. He did it.

“Keep your blaster on him,” Mando advised. “I don’t know how long he’ll be out.”

He throttled the speeder, zooming out of the alley and back onto the streets. River twisted in her seat, training the barrel against Rhet’s chest, finally getting a good look at him without the cloudiness of her fear muddying the image.

He was still so devastatingly handsome. What a total waste, for the Maker himself to give a man so much beauty and such a rotten soul.

The passing lights of Nar Shaddaa sent flashes of vibrant color streaking over him, illuminating his features. Each one was a memory.

_Red._ The cantina. The night they met, his hand clammy against her cheek while they kissed.

_Blue._ The shower. Her eyes open in terror, head sliding roughly across the wet tile floor, ass lifted in the air, when all she wanted was to rinse off after work.

_Green._ The club. Counting her tips in a circle with her coworkers, stewing in silence as he tucked the stack in his back pocket.

_Purple._ The smuggler’s cargo hold. Shaking from the cold, watching her breath tumble out of her lungs as the distance grew greater and greater between them.

The colors swirled everywhere - over him, over her, reflecting off of Mandalorian iron, glinting across the metal of this blaster.

“Are you okay?”

She faced him and let her senses return to her. She didn’t realize her cheeks were tear-streaked and red. She didn’t realize she’d been shaking, holding labored breaths tight inside her chest. She didn’t realize they were back already, parked outside the Crest.

Mando placed a grounding hand on her shoulder.

“Come on.”

They exited the speeder, moving to the backseat to pull Rhet up the ship’s ramp. He was heavy and hard to maneuver, all limbs and dead weight. Finally, with a huff, Mando dropped his torso to the metal deck, letting his head thump hard against the steel without any second thoughts.

Suddenly, Rhet coughed and groaned, opening his eyes to see the Mandalorian and his row of frozen quarries. He turned his head towards River, his bloodshot eyes slicing into her like daggers.

“You dumb cunt,” he heaved, looking down to his bleeding leg and over to the row of carbonite blocks. 

“Where am I? Oh, you’re fucked now. You really — _shit_ ,” he brought a bloodied hand up to his head, rubbing a huge purple bump that had formed on his temple.

River clenched her hands into tight fists at her sides.

“Rhet Tozer, you have a bounty on your head,” the Mandalorian informed him. “And I’m the one collecting.”

Rhet laughed, spittle flying from his mouth as he rollicked on the deck.

“Oh, little bird,” he growled. “You really think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

He moved to get up, only to get kicked in the ribs by the bounty hunter.

“Don’t even _think_ about touching her,” he snarled. The venom in his modulated voice was terrifying.

Rhet groaned, clutching his side and falling back to the floor.

“Fucking ugly whore,” he spat blood to the side. “You’re probably screwing this bucketheaded fool too.”

A grunt, a tumble, and a delicate clatter. Mando had picked him up by the jacket collar, clocked him square across the jaw, and knocked a bloody red tooth out onto the deck.

He exhaled and faced River, his expressionless mask stirring something absolutely primal in her. They stayed still like that for a moment, the only sound coming from their heaving breaths and the distant noise of the city.

“Go put some bacta on your face and the burn,” he said. “I’ll take care of freezing him and returning the speeder.”

River nodded, feeling a nearly rabid lust tearing at her chest. If she had it her way, she’d have dropped to her knees at this very moment, slammed Mando against the wall of carbonite, and sucked him dry right there in the cargo hold.

Soon, she told herself. Very soon.

———

On the walk back from the rental lot, Mando stopped to pick up a few items with his recovered credits from River’s bounty. He thought it only right to treat her to something nice, as a thanks for going along with his plan. She didn’t have to put herself in harm’s way like that, but she did.

It was brave. _She_ was brave. He liked that - more than anything else about her, he’d decided. The list grew every day.

Back aboard the ship, he found her standing in the common area in a comically wide stance. The child ran zig-zag patterns around her ankles, laughing and hicupping at her as she giggled back at him.

Mando placed a small open-topped crate on the table, pulling River from her babysitting duties. Her eyes lit up curiously at this mystery delivery.

He clapped a hand on River’s shoulder and steered her towards the table. It was almost chummy, like they were two soldiers reunited at their base after a successful battle. Isn’t that what this was, in some strange way?

She looked down into the box and squeaked in delight, pulling out a large bottle of fizzy alcohol.

“To the victor go the spoils,” he joked.

“Mando, you _really_ know how to celebrate.” She waved the bottle in the air, raising her eyebrows at him.

He was beaming with pride. A lightness filled his chest, swelling and expanding, gently spreading warmth throughout every muscle.

He did right by her. He had to. He promised.

And she was worth it.

“Mandalorians are known for many things,” he explained, watching her struggle with the cork. “Booze is one of them.”

River laughed as the bottle opened with a satisfying pop, making the child jump.

“Please tell me there’s a way for you to share this with me,” she said, bringing the bottle to her mouth to take a large swig.

She held the bottle by the neck and extended it to Mando. He reached out, clutching the heavy glass jug and looking her up and down. The purple bruise across her face would’ve been off-putting to anyone other than him.

It was a temporary mark, a trophy earned valiantly, something he hoped she’d wear with pride even after it healed. Eventually it would fade and become an old memory, just like her pain.

“Let’s get out of here first,” he offered, moving towards the cockpit ladder with River and the child in tow.

Pulling away from Nar Shaddaa felt like taking a gulp of air after having her head held underwater. The twinkling lights and clouds of smog looked smaller and smaller with each passing second.

He’d reluctantly let her sit in his lap as he flew, taking small swigs of her drink as she watched the planet disappear down through the Crest’s windows. He cheekily pulled the hyperspeed lever as she took a long draw from the bottle, squeezing her side with his free hand as the liquid spilled and bubbled down her chin from the sudden lurch.

“You did that on purpose,” she teased with a smile, wiping the mess with the back of her hand. Her eyes sparkled like the wine.

He definitely did it on purpose. He needed a carefree moment to hear her laugh again, something to undo the torture of seeing her deep sadness and her burning rage firsthand. This moment - her laughing on his lap, so close and so _happy_ \- was his own breath of fresh air. Being around her was like standing on a serene mountaintop with the helmet off, drinking in the cool, unfiltered crispness. He felt renewed when he saw her smile.

He also felt absolutely, off-the-fucking-rails insane. He found himself constantly thinking about her, intentionally putting her in his mind and holding her there. It was new territory for him. Attachments like this were not the norm in his life.

He drew the tips of his gloves up her arms, cradling her against him. She carded her fingers up into the soft fabric of his cowl, softly digging into the subtle warmth she felt beneath it.

“I’m very proud of you,” he whispered against her cheek, careful not to let his helmet press uncomfortably against her bruised flesh.

He really was. She didn’t hesitate when she’d plunged her knife into Rhet’s leg. And she looked so incredibly hot with a blaster in her hand, ready to provide totally untrained yet fiercely loyal cover for him. It was a gesture that aligned directly with his values.

“It’s not fair,” she huffed playfully against his neck.

He hummed, sliding his fingers up into her hair, scratching at her scalp through the thick leather material. She melted into his palm.

“What’s not fair?”

Her fingers dug harder against his covered neck, pulling her mouth closer against it. He could feel the wet warmth of her breath.

Her voice was a syrupy purr, “How fucking sexy you look when you’re fighting for me.”

A potent primitive need rose strongly inside of him. His fingers tangled themselves in a fistful her hair, pulling just slightly until her head tipped back. A quiet sound of sweet surrender released from her lungs, light and breathy.

He reached over and tapped the edge of the pram, sealing the lid shut, before moving that same hand to River’s thigh. He gripped it hard, shifting her to straddle him in his pilot’s chair. River placed the bottle on the floor and bit her lip as she peeled her shirt and bra over her head.

Mando exhaled low and slow, arching his hips up into hers, lazily playing with her tits as she faintly mewled. She was a damn vision, with her legs spread wide across his lap, black hair glowing like a halo, backlit from the tumbling tunnel of hyperspace. He wished he could pull one of those tight pink nipples into his mouth, circle his tongue around it, gently pull at it with his teeth.

He moved to unlatch his chest plate, itching to feel her body heat burning into him. River’s hand shot out to his, stopping it in place.

“ _No_ ,” she warned, a flicker of fire igniting in her gaze. “Leave it on…”

Her finger traced down the vertical line of his helmet. “All of it.”

She moved his hands to lay flat and wide on the armrests of his chair before hers danced over to his belt buckle. Mando’s breath hitched, catching halfway between his lungs and his mouth, as he watched her slowly pry away his utility belt and stretch her slender fingers up to the button and zipper of his pants.

She made quick, surgical work of undoing his clothing, pulling the material down inch by inch, revealing a widening strip of rich olive skin. His flesh was taut over his lower abdominals and speckled with dark hair.

River’s mouth watered at the sight. Reaching a hand down into his trousers, she shot a look up at Mando to see if he’d stop her. The helmet offered no hints. Her wild eyes stayed trained on the lens of his visor as she wrapped her fingers around his length.

Involuntarily, River chewed on her bottom lip as she ran her hand up and down, taking in every detail. He was so thick and warm, all smooth skin over beskar-hard manhood. A low groan sounded through his helmet at her touch. He couldn’t help himself; he brought a hand up from the armrest to paw at her breast, trace his way up to her neck.

Slowly, River pulled him from his pants and dropped her gaze downward.

It was perfect. He was perfect. A glistening bead of precum leaked from his tip, rolling down the engorged head onto the silky skin of his cock.

River languidly ran her thumb up the underside, collecting the slick liquid and rolling it over his head, earning a helpless, vulnerable shudder from him. His helmet tipped forward, resting against her forehead.

Her eyes locked on the dark strip of his visor as she brought the thumb to her lips, slipping it into her mouth for her first taste of him. A muffled, hungry groan rolled from her chest as she dipped down from his lap, situating herself on her knees between his open legs.

He was so fucking worked up. He actively had to focus on not cumming immediately, on trying to enjoy this for as long as he possibly could.

Her hands came up to either side of his hips before honing in on his cock, wrapping both around the base firmly as her mouth made its advance. It was surreal to see him exposed like this, his hardness standing at attention in the sterile ship air, framed on every side by canvas and steel.

When her tongue first made contact, Mando could’ve sworn the entire galaxy ripped in two. He must’ve made some horribly embarrassing noise, based on River’s coy little laugh. Tilting his helmet back down to watch her, he brushed her hair away from her face so he could watch her perfect lips wrap around him. She was deliberate, sliding her mouth down and sucking her way back up, pumping him and teasing him, not letting him slip into the rhythm he craved.

“You taste so fucking good,” she hummed, sliding her hot tongue up in a long stripe from base to tip, before fluttering it just under his head.

He unwittingly tightened his grip in her hair, thrusting himself up into her mouth with a grunt. He held himself there, plunged against the back of her throat, eyes rolling back as a devilish chuckle vibrated his cock. River ripped herself off of him and sat back on her knees, forcefully swiping dribbling wetness from her bottom lip with her thumb.

“Why so eager?” she scolded, letting her playful, lustful, bratty eyes pierce him. She leaned back slightly, against the base of the console.

Mando panted, watching in awe as one of her hands tweaked her nipple while the other reached for the bottle.

He thought about his answer.

_Because I’ve wanted this for too long._

_Because I can’t control myself around you._

_Because I want to have every part of you._

Finally, he shifted forward on the chair and ordered, strong and commanding, “ _Get back up here_.”

River smirked, pulling from the bottle and slamming it back to the floor. She lunged at his lap, slipping him back into her mouth without hesitation.

He could’ve died right there and not known it. The bubbles from the wine fizzed and popped along his sensitive skin, held captive on River’s tongue. His body nearly doubled over; his fingers dug into the armrests so hard she could hear the leather strain.

She swallowed around his length, drinking in the taste of him along with the booze. Mando cradled the back of her head, hiking his hips up into her wet mouth, feeling himself hit the back of her.

She kept up her vigor, pumping her hand along the parts of him she couldn’t reach, peering up into his visor. Here he was, this unrivaled Mandalorian warrior, an unshakable bastion of composure, crumbling for her.

His thrusts became more desperate, hips hitching up and twitching back with uneven, shaky timing.

“Where do you want my cum?”

River’s mouth curled up into a wicked smile. She threw her head back, sucking her lips off of him with a loud pop.

“On my tongue,” she moaned, pulling him back into her.

Mando sputtered, clutching both sides of her head as he tensed, feeling his balls tuck up tight against his body. With a ripping groan, he unloaded into her, shooting thick ropes of cum down her throat.

River swallowed, savoring the sticky, salty taste of him, before opening her mouth for him to see the last of his spend shoot out onto her pink tongue. Her hand pumped him through his after-shocks, coaxing out every last drop. Mando stroked her jaw as she made a show of swallowing what she’d collected, letting him feel the muscles of her neck contract as it slid down and coated her.

He collapsed back on the chair, sweating and buzzing in total satisfaction, letting his body melt into the seat. River licked him clean and tucked him back inside his trousers before pulling her shirt back on.

“So are you sharing this drink with me or what?” she teased, picking the bottle up and exiting the cockpit with a smile.

Mando was in trouble. He couldn’t say no to this girl. Maybe ever.

He took a moment before joining her to type out an alert to the client for Rhet’s bounty. Pulling up a messenger holofeed, he flexed his fingers and wrote out his offer.

He was about to break at least three rules of the Bounty Hunter’s Creed. But did he really care? It certainly wasn’t the first time.

His fingers moved swiftly across the keys.

_[Rhet Tozer is in my custody. Arriving to Canto Bight at 1500 local time tomorrow. Send meetup coordinates.]_

He exhaled, shifting back in his chair as he reread the transmission. Tomorrow, they’d close this chapter and River would get to start a new one, out from under Rhet’s thumb. What happened from there should be easy.

A swirling feeling in the pit of Mando’s stomach told him it wouldn’t be as simple as he imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so hard to write. The next chapter gets a little emo and a lot steamy. I have no idea when it will be up, but trust me, it’s coming!
> 
> Thank you as always for the kudos and comments!


	6. Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhet has been captured. Mando is on his way to deliver him personally on Cantonica. After so much work - and with such beautiful company - would a little shore leave be so bad?

River and Mando sat in the thresholds of their respective cabins, separated by the steel wall between them. His helmet sat next to his folded legs.

The rich baritone of his voice was a little louder and more animated than usual. Words ran together just barely, probably imperceptible to anyone else but River.

The alcohol was making them feel warm and loose. The glass bottom of the bottle scraped loudly against the steel deck, appearing in River’s periphery.

“Your turn,” he said, letting out a contented exhale.

She picked up the bottle, getting a private satisfaction out of wrapping her lips around the mouth of it, tasting him again in this small way. She drank deeply, letting the liquid slosh in her stomach. She would’ve given anything to kiss him.

“Alright,” she slurred. “I got one.”

They’d been at it for too long already. None of these jokes were even funny anymore. Most of them didn’t even make sense.

Giggles erupted from her throat before she could even begin, making Mando crack up in turn.

“Okay, okay,” she composed herself, taking a steadying breath. “How do you unlock doors on Kashyyyk?”

Mando laughed, a smooth rolling thunder.

“Oh, no…” he groaned, rubbing his palm over his forehead. “With a wook-key?”

River burst into an exaggerated, shocked yelp, giggling through the end of it.

“Fuck, man... How have you heard every single one of these?!”

His gloved hand appeared by her door, making a grabbing gesture. She put the bottle in it and he disappeared around the corner.

“I’m secretly a traveling stand-up comedian,” he kidded, swigging again from the jug.

River snorted, “Yep, at your last gig you really _killed.”_

Mando laughed and blushed on his side of the wall, running a hand through his hair. Gods, he really liked this girl.

A comfortable stillness fell between them. River laid flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling of the ship, enjoying the subtle rumble of the engine beneath her.

“I haven’t been fair to you, River,” he cut through the silence, voice a bit more serious now.

“Why’s that?” she hummed.

He was still so dumbfounded at how much her simple little sounds could soothe him.

“You don’t know anything about me. And yet you’ve given me so much of you.”

She shifted up, hearing the heaviness in his tone. The bottle slid into her doorway.

“Are you kidding me?” she snatched it, taking a long sip. “You saved my life. I’m not sure what else you think you owe me.”

She heard him shuffle in the room next to her, his canvas layers rustling against the steel deck.

He wanted to give her his name. Din. He wanted to hear her say it in so many different ways - sighing it against his lips, screaming it with her nails digging into his back, shouting it in the fray of battle, quietly calling from across the Crest’s hold.

“I want you to know me. Better than you do now. I have difficulty… fuck, it’s hard for me to — I don’t want you to think… ugh,” he cut himself off, letting out a disappointed grunt, trying to find the right words in this state without rambling.

River saved him from this adorable, miserable struggle with a reassuring chuckle.

“Don’t worry about it, Mando.”

Hearing her say that, his soulless nickname instead of his real name, was like a punch to the gut. He practically felt himself recoil.

“You can tell me whatever you want, whenever you’re ready.”

She wanted to know what he had in mind, but didn’t plan to press the issue just yet. For now, she was content to lay back on the floor of his ship, a little buzzed on fizzy wine, being rocked by the gentle currents of hyperspace.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m going to get some sleep.”

River stretched, gauging her own energy levels. She wasn’t quite ready for bed.

“How much longer do we have before we land?” she asked.

She heard him fiddle with a control on his vambrace.

“About 12 hours. You should rest while you can,” he advised.

“Why’s that?”

He gently shook his head as he started to remove plates of armor.

“Something tells me you’re really going to enjoy Canto Bight.”

River grinned hearing the smile in his voice. She started her own nighttime routine, slipping into her thick oversized sweatshirt and moving to the ‘fresher to brush her teeth.

She got another look at the bruise across her face. The spots of red, broken blood vessels had dissipated, leaving behind a deep purple mark already yellowing at the edges. River turned and tilted her face, examining it.

A realization dawned on her, creeping over her slowly like delicate morning light.

This was the last bruise she’d ever get from Rhet.

Her eyes flickered to the jar of bacta gel on the small ledge below the mirror. She could have put more on to speed the healing, but decided not to. This was a badge she’d wear as long as she could.

Picking up the bottle from her room, she padded down the hall to cargo, running her hands along the row of carbonite blocks. They were cold under her fingers and perfectly smooth along the edges. Some sported Guild chain codes along the edge, like titles down the spine of ancient texts. Others had different markings, handwritten in white chalk. She didn’t recognize the characters. They were longer and thinner than Aurebesh, standing tall and proud like strong pillars. It had to be his native alphabet.

Her hand ran down the edge of Rhet’s block, before pulling it out of the rack. The mechanics hissed as it moved, stopping the motion with a loud _clank_ as it reached the end of the sliding mechanism.

River took a step back, studying his trapped body. His face was drawn in, eyebrows knit closely together, as if in surrender.

She tipped the bottle back, gulping what was left, roughly wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve. She wondered if these quarries could hear anything while frozen, if their minds were still awake in this petrified state.

Her fingers traced over the lines of his chest, thinking about all the times she’d laid her head there, wishing he would come around. Her cheeks burned, remembering how foolish she’d been.

If River had learned anything from this relationship, it was that people don’t change just because you want them to. Hoping for anything else was useless.

She’d survived. She made it out, was nearly dragged right back to hell, and made it out again.

A quick blaze of anger streaked through her, hot and bright like a flare. She remembered everything he’d taken from her - her family, her friends, her money, her career, her dignity, her name, any semblance of a normal life.

“You fucking leech,” she muttered through clenched teeth.

With a wild swing, she smashed the bottle against his frozen face, swearing he could feel it.

———

Mando was washing the baby in the sink when she woke up. She lingered at the mouth of the hallway, watching him gingerly run a wet towel over the child’s green skin. He squirmed and laughed when Mando scrubbed up under his arms. Apparently tiny green mystery babies could be ticklish. Who knew?

River smiled and leaned her head against the wall, enjoying the cool metal against her temple. A slight hangover was pulsing at the edges of her brain; nothing a cup of caf couldn’t fix.

“How did you sleep?” he asked, not pulling his attention from his task.

Of course he knew she was standing there, silently observing. River also had a feeling he knew exactly how she slept.

She let out an amused exhale and pushed off the wall, taking a place next to Mando at the counter to make her drink.

“Just okay,” she paused, considering her wording. “It was unnerving knowing Rhet is a few feet away in the hold.”

She turned towards the bounty hunter, who was now drying off the youngling with a dish rag.

“A little too close for comfort, even with him frozen,” she admitted, taking a sip from her steaming mug. The taste and aroma alone were working wonders on her sluggish brain.

Mando wrapped the baby back up in his brown coat and sent him on his way to play. He moved closer to River, sliding his arm near her hip along the counter.

“I heard you, with the bottle,” he said flat and even, without a drop of judgement.

River looked down, bristling in embarrassment. She’d let her emotions get the best of her. Looking back on it in the unforgiving light of morning and sobriety, she realized it was maybe a little overdramatic. She’d stayed crumpled on the floor of the cargo hold for a while, crying and picking up the broken pieces of glass.

He’d definitely seen that - a vulnerable, pathetic, private moment on full display.

“This has… stirred up some emotions for me,” she softly confessed. “It’s not as easy as I thought it would be.”

Mando took her chin in his hand, tilting her face up to his. The bruise looked a little better; still visible, but healing nicely.

He considered his next words very carefully.

“Victory is rarely as simple as we envision.”

He had to remind himself that she was not a combat-trained Mandalorian warrior. Violence was not in her nature. One day, he hoped she would become more comfortable with the idea of defending herself, of fighting back against anyone and anything that threatened her.

Until then, he was here. He would do it for her.

———

River stared in wonder out of the windows as the Razor Crest descended through the atmosphere of Cantonica. The starport in Canto Bight was busy and impressive, with arrival and departure lanes full of luxury class ships and yachts. The Crest definitely stood out.

It was midday, and the brilliant sunlight reflected off the ocean like a million tiny mirrors. Mando had explained it was a man-made creation, not natural to the planet’s desert climate. That somehow made it more impressive to River.

Outside the starport, massive domed structures towered over cobbled streets, set into the sloping terrain of a valley. Everything was over the top, loud, flashy. She grinned inwardly.

He was right. She was definitely going to enjoy this.

When the ship landed, Mando made quick work of paying port fees and arranging for a mechanic. River packed a couple of bags with some essentials for the three of them - herself, Mando, and the baby. He’d promised a couple nights accommodation at a nearby resort and she planned to take full advantage.

Her mind dipped into lusty territory as she finished up her arrival tasks, thinking about sprawling out on a big bed with him, feeling him fill her up, twisting her hands into soft sheets and pillows as his mouth moved down her writhing body.

River dragged the stuffed packs into the cargo hold and watched as he closed the hatch, sealing them back in the artificial light of the ship. She made a confused sound, mourning the loss of sunlight, something that had become an increasing rarity for her aboard the Crest.

“We need to have a discussion,” he said, straightforward as ever.

River’s brows furrowed as he came closer, drawing her into him by the waist. He pushed the curtain of her hair to the side so he could look into both of her wide, brown eyes. Her heart skipped delicately at his touch.

He was serious. He was serious 99% of the time, but he was especially serious now. It made her nervous.

“The bounty called for Rhet’s return, dead or alive,” he paused, squeezing her a bit closer to him.

She nodded, feeling anxiety swell inside of her.

“I would’ve killed him on sight yesterday,” he stated, the disgust in his voice apparent. “But I want you to be the one to decide how he’s brought in.”

River’s heart stopped. Her eyes darted all over the smooth planes of his helmet, hoping she’d find answers in the curves and contours of the beskar.

“W- What?” she stammered.

Was he really asking her what she _thought_ he was asking?

He gave her a short nod.

“I’m not going to pressure you into one choice or another. This is entirely up to you. No one will know,” he paused, tightening his grip on her. “And I will protect you no matter what.”

River felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

Did she want him dead?

She had fantasized about this, more times than she’d ever admit out loud. It was shameful she thought, to wish for death on someone you claimed to love, no matter how flawed that love was.

When they were together, she would daydream about Rhet being killed in a gang dispute, or drinking himself to death, or overdosing while he partied with other girls. It would’ve made everything so simple for her.

Or at least she thought it would.

Did she want him to die? The question kept echoing in her mind.

“River…” Mando whispered. “You will not go through this alone.”

Her mind kept reeling, air still too thin in the cramped cargo hold.

Did she want this?

She moved out of Mando’s arms and slid Rhet’s frozen block out of the rack, watching it glide mechanically between them. The carbonite stood like a wall, blocking her off from Mando, separated by Rhet’s defenseless, incapacitated, battered body.

It was like looking in a mirror, one that showed her how she used to be. Helpless. Defeated. No options. No way out.

Did she want him to die?

She ran her fingers over his face, still scrunched up in retreat.

“We’ll bring him in alive.”

Her voice was a wobbling tremor, thick in her throat.

Mando came around the corner of the carbonite block, bringing a hand behind River’s neck. He tipped his helmet to touch her forehead, running a gentle touch along the base of her skull.

“I can’t— I _won’t_ be like him,” she muttered, leaning further into the bounty hunter’s embrace.

Mando could feel her swirling emotions stilling and solidifying, strengthening her resolve.

“You are a strong woman. Honorable and kind,” he affirmed. “You will never be like him.”

A feeling of calm fell over her, seemingly out of nowhere. At her feet, the child stood with his hand outstretched, resting on her ankle, gazing up at her with warm, affectionate eyes.

She remembered Mando’s words from earlier. This victory was not simple. At least it was almost complete.

Peeling himself from the embrace, Mando slipped some credits and a datapad into her palm and moved towards his weapons safe.

“The coordinates to our hotel are in there. Go get settled. I’ll handle bringing him in.”

Her hair whipped around as she snapped her neck towards him, stomping up to the blaster cabinet.

“No way,” she boomed. “I’m going with you.”

“Like hell you are,” he huffed, stuffing extra blasters and detonators into his accessory harnesses and bandolier.

She grabbed a long-range rifle off the rack and slung it across her back.

Mando stopped, tilting his helmet condescendingly.

“You don’t even know how to use that.” His tone was clipped and annoyed.

River crossed her arms defiantly, raising her chin in rebellion. He knew she wasn’t going to back down, not from a fight she had every right to see through to the end.

“You’re not going alone,” she confirmed. “I have to finish this myself. I have to see it.”

A steadily burning fire glowed in Mando’s heart - the heart of a warrior. The heart of a man who would do anything for this captivating force of a woman, drawn to him like a magnet, pulling the plates of his beskar.

“Okay,” he relented. “But we’re hiding your face.”

She cocked a deadpan eyebrow at him.

“What, so I’m a Mandalorian now?”

He shook his head with an exasperated huff, rummaging around for an old shirt she could use as a mask. He ripped the dark material at the seams and moved to wind it around her face, covering everything below her eyes.

“I don’t need these guys knowing who you are.”

Pivoting on his boot, he loaded the carbonite block onto a floating dolly, throwing their packs on top.

“Not gonna thaw him out first?” she asked, studying the chalk markings one more time. His handwriting was militant and sharp, just like him.

Mando grunted as he started the dolly down the opening ramp.

“I’ll kill him if he touches you again. So no.”

———

She repeated his instructions with each step, making sure the floating pram was always in her periphery.

_Stay cool. Don’t say anything. Don’t react. Cover me if things go south. Do not let the kid out of your sight._

The dust swirled up in thick clouds around them, adding a heavy haze to the exchange. Three cartel members stood at the entrance to a cave, their weapons slung heavy across their chests and backs. Sand-colored mud and dust covered their dark tactical gear - combat boots, blaster-proof vests and padding, open-bottomed helmets with red-tinged visors shielding their eyes from the harsh elements.

Whatever operation these guys were running was big business. Rhet had finally crossed the wrong people - ones with enough resources to fight back.

River’s stomach was flipping over on itself as she second-guessed her decision to come along. These guys were incredibly intimidating.

But then again, when she’d caught a look at herself in the reflection of the Razor Crest’s polished hull, she’d looked pretty intimidating too. Her hair was tied back in a fierce ponytail, face mostly covered by black fabric, with a rifle nearly as big as her resting across her back.

Mando swung the packs off the carbonite block and onto the ground, showing off his quarry. River’s heart still jumped every time she saw Rhet - even in this form.

The leader of the group came forward, inspecting the block. He compared a holoscan on his datapad to the human man encased in carbonite, checking his identity and sending a capture notice to the syndicate superiors.

“The fuck’re we supposed to do with him still frozen?” he grumbled, spitting to the side roughly.

Mando approached him cooly, resting his hand on the butt of his blaster.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he retorted. His voice was firm and commanding, reminding River of her own brief time as a prisoner of this powerful hunter. “Take it or leave it.”

The two men squared off to one another, looking menacing. They both were clearly unaccustomed to getting anything other than _exactly_ what they wanted. The other gang members tensed, drawing their grips tighter against their weapons. River mirrored their motions, flashing her eyes between Mando and the sealed pram.

“We’ll be knockin’ your pay for the inconvenience,” the man finally convened, snapping his fingers to the other syndicate members. They moved towards the dolly, unloading the block to be moved into the cavern.

River took a deep breath beneath the fabric of her mask. It smelled like Mando’s skin, earthy and masculine, and filtered out the oppressive desert dust that seemed to be forcing itself into every pore.

This was the last time she’d ever see Rhet. She wanted so badly to ask what they were going to do with him, but knew she couldn’t.

 _Don’t say anything_. It was the hardest gag order she’d ever been given. She _had_ to know.

The group leader put a stack of credits in Mando’s open hand, crossing his arms as it was counted.

“Thought you Mandalorians worked alone,” the man jeered, cocking his head over to River.

Mando pocketed his payment, not dropping the confident, dangerous aura he’d been emanating since they arrived. He ignored the comment, and instead asked a single question, like he could feel River’s burning curiosity.

“What’re you gonna do with him?”

The leader twitched the corner of his mouth up in a wry smirk, showing off his chipped and crooked teeth.

“I just bring the bodies in, Mando,” he quipped. “Son of a bitch’ll prolly end up in the spice mines with the rest of ‘em.”

With a curt nod, Mando turned and repacked the bags on the dolly, setting on his way.

River followed, watching the arid landscape reflect back at her off his beskar armor. She’d heard rumors about the spice mines on Kessel, with its scorching heat, unbearable living conditions, toxic fumes. It felt like a fitting punishment.

“He won’t survive a month,” Mando concluded, eyes still trained on the horizon.

The city glimmered in the distance, beckoning as if it was a mirage.

She had wandered so long by herself, exiled to a dark, forgotten corner of the galaxy to save her own skin. The oasis was finally near.

———

River thought the turbolift droid was a delightfully cheery departure from the curt, judgemental concierge. She’d done little to hide her disapproval of their dust-covered combat gear and mysteriously sealed baby buggy.

The service droid happily rattled off a list of the resort’s amenities as they traveled to a high floor.

“My biometric reader tells me you’re traveling with a youngling!” it sang, mechanical arms waving excitedly in the air.

Mando tensed, shooting a look to River.

The droid continued, “Our on-site daycare facilities are the best in the parsec, and offer round-the-clock service, in case Mother and Father would like some alone time.”

The droid’s metallic arm gave Mando’s a friendly nudge, clanking against his pauldron. Discomfort rolled off of him as he shifted sideways, shoving off the gesture. River choked back an explosive laugh.

The lift dinged on their floor, and Mando slung their packs over his shoulder, exiting without a parting word to the droid.

“Please enjoy your stay!” it chimed, before pressing the button to seam them in the silence of the hallway.

River gave it a polite nod and smile, before following behind Mando and the floating pod. They certainly had some words to chew on during their walk, didn’t they? Mother and father? River couldn’t imagine trying to explain birthing that little green menace.

Daycare was an interesting revelation. She wondered if Mando would go for it.

Their room was the last in the long corridor, lined with gaudy patterned carpet and flocked velvet wallpaper. When the doors opened, they were greeted with the most extravagant setup she’d ever seen.

Plush cream carpets covered the floors, stretching from the bedroom on the far left to the sitting and dining area on the right. River let her eyes go wide, taking in this incredible place. It was the kind of thing she’d only dreamed about.

“Stars above, Mando,” she reveled, mouth agape. “How in blazing _hells_ did you afford this?”

He set the packs down along the wall, unclipping his rifle and bandolier.

“I did some research. Don’t worry about it.”

He really did. More than he would willingly admit, actually. He spent hours on his datapad, looking into the various options in the city, comparing pricing, location and safety. He even delved into finding activities for the kid, and inquiring about the presence of blackout shades.

He felt like a complete idiot doing it, but reminded himself that this was just like any other excursion he’d planned. He never went in unprepared. Only this time, he’d be kicking back instead of kicking someone’s teeth in.

River moved into the refresher and squealed at the sight. A massive marble bathtub was set into the wall, with a large glass-encased shower adjacent. She hadn’t had a long soak in ages; she imagined Mando was in a similar plight.

“This is the nicest place I’ve ever stayed,” she mused, running her hands along the smooth countertop on her way back into the sleeping area, where Mando sat perched on the edge of the mattress.

The bed was expansive, taking up most of the partitioned space, and topped with a plush duvet and fluffed pillows. It couldn’t be more different than her cramped, cold bunk aboard the Razor Crest, or her old bed on Horuz - which was really just a salvaged mattress she stuck next to the heating vent in her room.

The kid was running about the space, hoisting himself up onto the bedside console to do his favorite thing - push buttons.

River knit her brows together and swooped in to stop him. Mando’s gloved fingers wrapped around her wrist mid-reach.

“Don’t worry,” he said again. “Not like he can blow us up.”

She smirked at him, pulling back to watch the little guy play. He flipped a switch that elicited a soft hum, making his ears twitch over to the source before his head turned to follow.

Thick blackout shades started rolling down the windows, casting a shadow over the tops of the rear walls that inched lower while they observed. He turned his attention back to the switch, flipping it the opposite direction, and bobbed happily in place as he saw the shades come up again.

After a few rounds of peek-a-boo with the windows, Mando scooped the kid into his lap and stroked his ears.

“Take those credits I gave you earlier,” he said, tilting his helmet up at River, “and bring the kid with you into the town center. I’m going to take some alone time here.”

She nodded, wanting to respect his need for privacy.

“Anything you need me to pick up?”

Mando stood, crowding into River’s space, overtaking her view of the room. He brushed a stray hair back from her temple, letting his touch linger, making her breath hitch.

His mechanical voice was a low thrum, steady and even as it buzzed through the helmet.

“Get something nice to wear.”

River bit her lip, blinking up at the dark visor.

“Anything else?”

He just barely shook his head, moving his fingers to trace along her lower lip, glistening and pink from being pinched between her teeth.

He took in a steadying breath and handed the child off to her, who let out an excited coo as he settled onto her hip.

“Just knock before you come in,” he said.

She nodded, repositioning the kid as they strode out of the door. He could hear her excitedly announce their adventure on the other side of the wall, letting the muffled sounds of the kid’s laughter and shouts ring through his mind.

For the first time in months, he was totally alone - no foundling, no quarries, no friendly company, nobody at all. He was already eager for the two of them to come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back from my wedding and honeymoon hiatus and ready to start posting again!
> 
> I know I teased some steamy River-on-Mando action in this chapter, but by the time I’d written the FOREPLAY scene, Chapter 6 was already damn near 7,000 words. You’ll be well fed in Chapter 7, I promise.


	7. Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re eating good today, friends. Happy Friday.
> 
> This is 5,300 words of pure filth. There are definite shades of some character development here, but for now... plot? I don’t know her.

He was absolutely blinding under the casino lights.

Colored flashes streamed across his freshly polished armor, mirroring and amplifying the dizzying frenzy of vibrant lights. River realized she’d never seen his armor fully clean like this - painstakingly washed and scrubbed by careful hands, massaged over with a restorative oil. He was her favorite spectacle in this whole flashy place.

She smoothed her hands over her dress - silver and skin tight to match his beskar - as they settled into a corner booth at the central cocktail bar.

A server in a prim, white tuxedo wordlessly delivered a crystal clear martini. River let her eyes roll back as she took her first sip, savoring the taste of the alcohol, letting it slowly warm her from the inside out. The drinks on Horuz were… unrefined _,_ to say the least.

“A real shame you can’t have this right now,” she teased, lounging back against the cushioned banquette.

Mando’s eyes travelled along her - where her lips made contact with the glass, to her long neck, exposed and warm for him, begging to have his teeth sink in and _bite_. They dragged along to her collarbones, sweeping down the delicate skin of her chest, dipping under the tight V of her silver dress.

_Look, we match_ , she’d said when she stepped out of the hotel ‘fresher, done up and smelling incredible, turning around flirtatiously to give him a full view. The kid was already in the childcare center, under express instruction - maybe more of a thinly veiled threat - to remain under constant supervision, _no droids_.

Mando wanted to take her right there in the quiet hotel room, but had bigger plans.

Of its own volition, his hand snaked around River’s thigh under the table, squeezing gently. The visor stayed trained on her, unmoving and persistent.

“I can have whatever I want,” he said, inching his hand further up, sliding under the hem of her dress.

Heat flooded through River’s body, trying to burn through Mando’s gloves.

“You sure about that?”

Her voice was dark, urging him on.

His helmet made the slightest nod as he moved closer to her, his hand edging further towards her core. She parted her legs for him, granting him access.

“Yeah,” he breathed through the vocoder, all smooth static. He brushed a finger over her sex, making her shiver.

“Look at you,” he whispered in her ear as he moved his finger in a few lazy circles around her clit. “Spreading your legs for me under the table.”

River swallowed, sucking her lip into her mouth to tamp down a quiet whimper. His helmet moved into the crook of her neck, as if he wanted to kiss it, while his gloved finger hooked around the edge of her thong. He swiped through her folds just barely, teasing her.

Darts of pleasure shot up her body. For a moment, she considered how silent she could really be, if she could handle stifling her moans as he stroked her in this crowded lounge.

“Finish your drink,” he ordered, pulling his hand away and bringing it to rest atop the back of the booth, commanding and collected and cool as hell.

A lusty energy rolled through River like an electric current, sparking a fiery, scorching hunger in her.

If this Mandalorian wanted to play, she was going to lay it on thick.

Drowning the remnants of her martini, she set the empty glass back on the table, plucking the pierced olive off its pick with her teeth, letting him see her pink tongue flick out just barely as she captured the garnish in her mouth. He swore he could taste her in his mind - the bitter punch of alcohol laced over her full lips, the silk of her tongue dipping into his mouth.

“All done,” she sang, bumping her knee against his. “Now what?”

Mando remained unmoving in his seat, tapping his fingers breezily against the back of the bench. He paused, like he had all the time in the galaxy.

River raised her eyebrows at him expectantly, leaning forward to push her breasts out _just_ so.

He tilted the helmet towards her, dripping with confidence and swagger.

“Why haven’t you told me about The Bunker?”

River’s breathing froze as she folded back in on herself, unsure of where this was going.

She wasn’t ashamed of it. She had an immense amount of fun there, and made enough money to afford an apartment of her own plus pilot school.

So why _hadn’t_ she told him?

She wished she had more of her drink left to warrant another moment of hesitation, a few more precious seconds to formulate some sort of calculated response. Her fingers danced nervously along the stem of the glass.

The crackle of his synthesizer cut off her thoughts.

“Do you miss it?”

She paused, letting her hands still, digesting the sincerity and understanding coloring his tone.

Did she miss it?

_Fuck_ yeah, she missed it. The whole staff there was like a band of lovable misfits, and the work was always exciting. She got to be creative, to shake out her frustrations, to captivate and amaze and connect. The list of stories and memories was nearly endless.

A heaviness sunk into her shoulders, knowing she couldn’t return to that life, no matter how much she wanted to.

It was a sad reality she’d grown accustomed to since meeting Rhet. Doors only seemed to close, never open.

Wide eyes turned to Mando, piercing into his stoic helm.

“Every single day,” she answered meekly.

Capturing her hand in his, he pulled her from the booth and started walking at a purposeful clip.

“Where are we going?” she half-stammered, having to take double-timed steps to keep up in her black platform boots.

They reminded her of an old pair she’d owned on Nar Shaddaa - her favorite dancing shoes. She’d felt more like herself zipping them up her calves in the boutique in Canto Bight Center than she had in ages _._

Pulling her through the crowds of tourists, outside the doors of the casino, and through the darkened streets, they finally came upon an unmarked door manned by a lithe male Mirialan with striking geometric facial tattoos. Muffled, pulsing music thumped through the thick black walls, heavy and industrial.

River’s stomach did an excited backflip.

“If you want to go in,” Mando said, pulling her by the shoulders to face him squarely, “I would enjoy the opportunity to see you dance.”

He’d visited The Bunker when he went looking for her, trying to get some intel from the staff and regulars. It was a cavernous space, with an elaborately lit ceiling, tiered balconies overlooking a main dance floor, and smaller rooms branching off at the perimeter. Elevated platforms dotted the space with beautiful women and men dancing atop, wearing bondage-inspired costumes and dramatic makeup, flirting with the customers, touching and teasing each other to the music - all part of a grand show.

It wasn’t a brothel masquerading as a nightclub, as he’d incorrectly assumed. It was more of an immersive, alternative rave - drug-fueled entertainment for the undercity. Uniquely Nar Shaddaa.

River was a popular fixture. But when Rhet came into the picture, he made sure to keep a close, jealous eye, trying his hardest to steer her from performing towards other duties - like waitressing, or hustling the crowd for water pipe rentals.

Back then - and still tonight, standing outside the club’s mysterious blast door - all she wanted to do was dance. It had been so long since she’d been able to.

A playful sparkle lit River’s features from within.

“Mando...” she shook her head in disbelief, hooking a finger into his belt. “You don’t seem like the dancing type.”

She drew him closer to her, biting her lip over a wide grin.

“I’m not,” he declared. He tipped her chin up further with his finger, letting his touch run down her throat, skimming between her breasts. “I want to watch you.”

She could do that. She could move for him, take a private thrill in winding him up when he couldn’t do anything but sit back and observe.

“Then let’s go,” she said, turning from him with a beaming smile as she whipped her hair over one shoulder.

The Mirialan guard waved open the entrance door, and River strutted right in, taking in the space with a wondrous expression.

Finally, she was in her element.

The guard’s hand pressed against Mando’s chest plate before he passed the threshold.

“Gotta check your weapons for entry, my friend.”

Mando scoffed, looking down the hall to see River already bounding towards the bar. The bounce in her step was apparent.

“Fine,” he sighed, fishing his sidearm out of its holster to be tagged and locked in a cabinet behind the Mirialan.

“And your vibroblade,” he drawled, extending his elegant hand out expectantly.

Mando grumbled something incoherent under his breath, annoyed to be giving up another layer of defense.

Thankfully, he wasn’t stopped again and asked to remove his vambraces. He was confident their many deadly applications could keep them safe tonight.

Inside the club, River was already drawing eyes from many patrons. The bartender placed a shot of amber booze in front of her as some drunk asshole stroked the back of her arm, leaning in close.

“Pretty girls shouldn’t buy their own drinks,” he leered, staring at her cleavage.

Something searing and violent boiled in Mando’s blood. He placed a firm hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Hey,” he commanded, pivoting the intruder away from River. “That’s my job.”

She gulped down the shot, slamming the empty glass back on the bar with a smirk as Mando tossed some credits next to it.

The man stared at her, annoyed and confused.

“Sorry, bud,” she condescended, before flitting her gaze over to the wall of beskar next to her. “I’m spoken for tonight.”

Mando’s cock twitched in his trousers, reacting to her pronouncement of being claimed. Fuck. She could have anybody, but she was choosing him _._

His hand pressed against her lower back as she worked her way through the masses to a platform in the far corner of the club. Couples sat groping each other on the nearby couches, singles nursed their drinks as they watched the crowd, and a gorgeous Zeltron with fuschia skin and midnight blue hair shimmied her hips atop the elevated pillar.

“Sit here,” River said into the side of his helmet. “I’m gonna see if she’ll let me up there with her.”

Mando sat back against the stained sofa, spreading his arms and legs wide in a relaxed recline. The sight of it made River want to forget this whole excursion entirely, to part her legs and press herself against the muscle of his thigh. He was vast and solid, intimidating and _hers._

Spinning around to the edge of the platform, River held out a few credits and smiled at the Zeltron. She dipped low, caressing River’s hand as she collected her tip.

Mando watched the two of them exchange words and some laughs, glancing back in his direction, before the dancer pulled River up onto the stage with her. The two of them began moving together, stroking each other’s hair and waists, pulling their bodies together.

The dancer snaked behind River with a mischievous lift to her eyebrow, gently pushing River to face Mando as she ran her hands seductively over the shining fabric of her silver dress. Her eyes were locked on his visor as she subtly licked her lips, swirling her hips to the music and combing her fingers through her raven hair.

His head swam, picturing River and the dancer naked and moving like this, tracing their soft skin over his body, pressing against all the places that made him shudder and moan.

The music changed, shifting to an aggressive, pounding beat as the women broke apart from each other.

River dropped to her knees, starting to dance and gyrate on the floor of the platform. The Zeltron worked the edge of the stage, collecting more tips and cheering River on with frequent whoops of praise.

The strobing lights only gave Mando a clear view in bursts.

_Flash._ River’s chest arching backwards, touching her shoulder blades to her heels.

_Flash._ Her hands skimming over her breasts, massaging up to her neck, raking up into her scalp.

_Flash._ A spray of black hair, surging forward as she shot upright again, her feminine hands stretching forward across the polished platform surface.

_Flash._ Her ass lifted up and wiggling in the air, bouncing it back as she sat up, putting on a show.

He was hot and hard under his armor.

A bulky security guard came by, waving River off the platform with a wag of his finger. She shrugged back at the paid dancer, giving her a meek side-smile and a wink before skipping over to Mando.

She sat on his lap, enjoying the cool press of his beskar plate against her flushed skin. His gloved fingers stroked her legs.

“I figured that was bound to happen,” she laughed, hitching a thumb back at the guard.

The same thing would’ve happened to any random girl pulled onstage at The Bunker, but she was thankful for her short dip back into this world. She looked around the room, drinking in the scene and feeling a bittersweet nostalgia.

She couldn’t figure out if this was who she was anymore. If this was the kind of life she still wanted.

“You can dance for me here,” he said, voice like gravel on velvet.

River flashed a wicked grin as she slid off his lap, wondering how far he’d let her take this in public. She wanted to see him squirm.

Mando stayed reclined in his seat, arms and legs splayed out like a king on his throne. He was an unmissable contrast against the scantily clad crowd.

The helmet tilted forward just barely as River started her routine in front of him, swaying her hips side to side and pushing her hair forward to cascade down one shoulder.

Her eyes bored into his visor, searing into him like a plasma blade. She moved towards him, dancing between his spread legs, feeling his hands drift towards her thighs to draw light touches.

River dipped down, crouching between his knees, and placed a hand on each of his thighs to steady herself. The press of her fingers onthe firm muscle around his leg braces made him tense up, eager for more, yearning for her to touch his throbbing length. He remembered the feeling of her mouth on him in the cockpit of his ship, wet and warm and so fucking good.

She ran her hands along his legs, eyes still trained on the helm, as she slinked up his body, bringing one leg and then the other to straddle the outside of his hips.

“ _Shit,”_ he whispered, swallowing thickly as she slowly rolled her soft body over the hard planes of beskar steel, letting his hands roam down her back and waist, cupping her ass as she languidly writhed on top of him to the music.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Her voice was syrupy and smooth in his ear. Her weight on him made him feel like he was out of control, like he was being consumed by a heavy ocean current. He’d let her drag him to the depths if she wanted.

“I should have you kicked out for touching the talent,” she sassed, tossing her hair over the other shoulder.

Shifting to hop off his lap and keep dancing, she softly yelped when Mando’s hands jerked her back against him by the forearms.

“Don’t,” he grunted. “Stay right here.”

River sighed, too quiet for him to hear. Spreading herself over him like this was working her up fast, sending a buzzing desire straight into her core.

Mando was thankful for how dark it was, so no one could see his painfully tented pants, or catch on as he traced his touch up under her dress, softly rubbing her center. Her panties were already soaked.

“Fuck, Mando… you’re gonna tease me like this again?”

He fisted her long hair, tangling it in his firm grip.

“Won’t be teasing you later,” he growled.

Something dark started spreading through both of them, viscous and maddening. He slid a gloved finger inside her, making her gasp.

“If you keep doing that,” she whined, grinding down onto his pumping finger, “I’m gonna make a fucking scene.”

Withdrawing from her suddenly, Mando smacked her ass and slammed her hips into his.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He lifted up off the banquette, pulling River with him as she slid down his frame and adjusted the hem of her dress.

Entwining his fingers with hers, he led her through the packs of revelers outside the club, stopping only to retrieve his blaster and blade from security before their rushed walk back to the hotel.

———

The turbolift was crowded. He’d had enough of being around other people. All he could think about was getting her alone.

River physically _hurt_ with how badly she needed him. Taking a deep breath, she tried to think unsexy thoughts to survive the next few moments.

Old pilot school assignments. That was unsexy.

She ran down the last lesson she could remember from her classes - something about navigating rough air. She crafted a pretend scenario, in which she had to fly the Crest down through a turbulent storm, running through possible complications and troubleshooting them.

Her mind drifted - picturing herself sitting in the pilot seat, legs spread wide, clutching Mando’s head as he feasted on her.

Shit. This was not working.

“River...”

Snapping out of her fog, she saw Mando in front of her with one foot out the door of the lift. The other passengers had parted between them and were staring at her expectantly.

A blush bloomed across her cheeks as she skidded out of the crowded space, a little embarrassed and a lot turned on.

As soon as the doors chimed closed, Mando swiftly scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder. The cold metal of his pauldron dug into her hip, making her squirm.

“What the fuck?!” she gasped, watching the gaudy patterned carpet whiz by beneath her.

A firm _smack_ screamed across one ass cheek, making her squeal, her back arching involuntarily.

“I can’t wait another second,” he grumbled as he massaged his open palm over the strike, his thumb just barely grazing her warming center.

He unlocked the room, careful not to knock her into the doorframe as they entered. In one fluid motion, he tossed her onto the bed, lunging towards the bedside console to flip the switch for the blinds and power off all the room’s lights. As the shades lowered mechanically, he discarded his cape and boots and threw himself against the mattress, pulling River onto him backwards.

His torso leaned against the headboard as she straddled him. Having her on his lap, he’d decided, was his new favorite thing. Placing a hand between her shoulder blades, he pushed her forward.

“Take these off,” he ordered, tapping the side of his leg armor.

River shuddered, loving this assertive side of him. She arched her back to press her heat firmly against his crotch, feeling the fabric of her dress start to pull up and over her ass. A shaky, modulated breath sounded behind her.

He pulled her dress up over the rest of her cheeks and groped at her, subtly hitching up his hips to feel her bear down even harder on his cock. Another quick slap landed across her ass, making her pussy clench with want, dragging across his heavy trousers.

“You fucking _like_ that?” he barked, voice dominant and gruff.

River let out a lewd mewl of approval.

“ _Good.”_

While she worked on his legs, clumsily and hurriedly removing his lower armor, Mando took off his gloves and vambraces and set them on the nightstand. Darkness continued to envelop the room, subduing the faint glow of the street lamps and illuminated holosigns shining in from outside. He unzipped her boots, chucking them clear across the room, followed by her dress.

As the last bits of light disappeared from the space, Mando pivoted River in his lap to face him. He guided her hands to the base of his helmet, pausing there until darkness consumed them entirely.

Slowly and deliberately, he lifted the helmet from his head, pulling his hands away for River to finish the motion. Their shaky breaths were the only sound, prominent and loud in the stock-still void.

River didn’t know what to do with the helmet. It was something so sacred to him, such a huge part of his culture and identity, that she didn’t want to offend him by doing the wrong thing. Should she get up and blindly fumble around, try to place it carefully on the bedside table?

Like her concern was audible, Mando took it from her grasp, tossing it to the side, where it rolled off the mattress and hit the carpeted floor with a muted thud.

As if the sound was a starter pistol, their mouths collided together, swift and violent like a pod racer crash, tongues and lips gunning to devour each other. River’s fingers scraped along the metal of his armor, digging along the edges to try and find hints of how she could pry him loose.

Slowing the kiss, Mando brought her fingers to his right shoulder, using his touch to guide her through the removal. He silently showed her, piece by piece, where to unlatch and demagnetize each plate, letting them slide off the bed one by one, clanging together on impact.

She shifted the thick protective padding up his torso, chucking that across the room, moving to pull his dark canvas shirt over his head. Beneath it was a buttery soft cotton undertunic, warm and well-worn and smelling fucking _incredible_ , lighting up her brain like a hit of the galaxy’s purest spice.

Running her hands over the firm planes of his chest, she dipped her head to his ear.

“You really make a girl work to get you undressed.”

A quiet chuckle reverberated under her fingertips, evolving into a low moan as she ran her tongue over the space behind his ear. His hips rolled against hers while his broad, rough hands skimmed over her fevered skin to her ass.

He snapped the elastic waist of her thong, earning a sexy little squeak from her.

“Take this off...”

River let out a bratty huff, pulling Mando’s hair at the base of his neck.

“Make me,” she whispered against his mouth, kissing him long and slow before taking his lower lip between her teeth.

A potent, predatory growl rattled through him as he surged forward, pinning River to the mattress by her shoulders. She twisted against him, intentionally brushing against his hard length as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Careful who you’re challenging, _ner yustapir.”_

He bit down on her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, as she slid the soft undertunic over his head.

Finally, _finally,_ she got to feel the burning warmth of his bare chest against hers.

“ _Ner… yu- yustapir?”_ she repeated, butchering the pronunciation, too consumed by the feeling of him on top of her without any layers to separate them.

Mando shifted back as his fingers slid underneath the elastic of her panties, tangling the material in his grasp. He pulled them down with urgency, tearing them down the length of her legs.

“It means,” he groaned upon finding her wetness with his touch, “ _my River.”_

She gasped, feeling two thick fingers push past her entrance, twisting up into her to knock against the sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside her. Even in the total blackness surrounding them, she screwed her eyes shut, whimpering around him as his fingers plunged in and out, falling into a steady rhythm.

“Fuck… you have me so wet,” she murmured, reaching out to run her hands down the expanse of his body. He leaned into her touch, relishing the feeling, giving himself over to this ravenous hunger, this desperate intimacy.

She fumbled with the button and zipper of his pants, reaching down as far as she could with his fingers so deep in her. She whined - a choked out, high-pitched sound of loss - when he slid out of her velvet folds to finish the job of fully undressing.

When he collided with her again, he convulsed into a full-body shudder, overwhelmed with the feeling of his flesh so thoroughly exposed, so close to her own nakedness, their skin sliding and skidding and clinging together in the dark.

Everything felt new. The piercing sharpness of her nails digging into the breadth of his shoulders; the soft whimpers, the tiny noises she’d make, so fragile and delicate as they stuttered in her throat; the scent of her, storming and provocative and strongly feminine, like a whitewater rapid through a blooming rainforest.

They rolled around on the sheets together, basking in this unrestrained closeness of skin-on-skin contact.

His lips ignited her flesh, setting fire to her as he traveled over the sloping curves of her breasts, stilling their movements to dip down towards her magnetic core.

He wasted no time, promptly covering her mound with his hot, wet mouth, swirling his tongue over the hardened bud of her clit and lapping down into her opening, alternating between the two as he worked to unravel her. She twisted against the sheets, shaking under the vice grip he held around her hips, erupting in broken cries as he poured pleasure over her like an unrelenting summer rain.

“Stars— Mando, I—” she sputtered, losing her breath as he slipped a finger into her. She felt every ridge of his rough skin, every callous and crack covering his joints.

She needed more. She needed all of him.

“What do you want?” he hummed over her sex, sending a wicked wave of thrumming vibrations down both her legs. The pad of his finger rubbed deliciously against her front walls.

Grasping at his mussed helmet hair, she pulled him up from her thighs, swiping her thumb over the slick wetness that had saturated his jaw, soaking into the thin stubble.

“ _Please_ fuck me,” she breathed against him, inhaling her scent on his lips.

He wrapped her leg around his hip and propped himself up on one elbow, using his free hand to grip the base of his cock. Slowly, he dragged his engorged tip along her slit, collecting her dripping wetness, smearing it along the skin of his shaft.

_That_ was it, that’s what was finally going to make her truly lose her mind. Cracking, fragmentary pleading poured past her lips, uncontrollable and desperate.

“Yeah?” he teased. “This is what you need?”

His voice made her feel absolutely rabid. The sound of her pussy drenching him was fucking obscene - squelching and sticky.

“ _Please—_ fuck, Mando, just f—”

His hand came up to her throat, cutting off the words tumbling out of her mouth. A thumb brushed across her lips.

“It’s Din.”

River trembled underneath him, threading a hand up into the back of his hair.

“W-what?” she whispered.

He pushed the tip of his cock inside her, stilling for a moment, giving her a chance to adjust. She gasped in response, gripping his hair tighter.

“My name,” he rumbled over her, “is _Din._ ”

And with that, he plunged up into her, sheathing the length of him inside her blinding white heat, feeling her walls shake and contract around him.

A desperate breath choked out of her, scraping the lining of her lungs, as Din inhaled sharply - shared air in this vacuum of darkness. Her pulse was frenetic under his hand, hammering against the veins of her neck.

“Fuuuuck,” he exhaled, moving to cradle her head as he drew back halfway, feeling her clench in anticipation.

After his first thrust, he couldn’t keep his god damned head straight.

His fist slammed against the soft sheets beside her head, an anchor point as he pounded into her, drilling her into the mattress.

“Fucking _gods_ you are so tight,” he spat.

River’s nails tore down his back, digging greedily into the muscle, urging him on to go faster, harder, take everything he wanted from her.

“Never, ever leaving this bed,” he grunted, pinning her legs back, bending her to his will. Loud slaps of skin against skin echoed through the space, punctuating his words.

“Gonna fuck you til you can’t— can’t _walk,_ ” he panted.

“Din, _stars_ ,” she mewled. “You’re gonna make me cum already.”

It was too much - the incredible squeeze of her around his cock, the burning furnace of her body, the wild moans that wracked against her ribs.

He couldn’t shut up.

“Cum on me, _cyar’ika_ ,” he grunted, bringing his hand to her clit, pressing firm as he dragged her closer to the edge.

Heat and tension grew in between her hips, cresting higher and tighter with each rapid thrust.

A dazzling flash erupted behind her eyelids as she came. Everything felt illuminated, even in the stark black bedroom - the silky sheets bunching under her back, the stuttering dampness of his breath as he swore against her shoulder, the pulsing veins of his forearm that she clung to. Everything was vivid and bright.

He fucked her hard and deep through it, urging her on with sweet names and sounds of wonder. Even in this debilitating void, this empty space of total nothingness, she felt more full than she ever had. She felt everything.

Din tilted her jaw open, swirling his tongue against hers as she settled.

She rocked her hips up to meet his, groaning at the sensation. She’d gotten so wet, so relaxed and boneless after her orgasm that he could slide in even deeper, reaching the very end of her. He held her still, speared onto his cock, as they both gasped into each other.

She latched onto his lower lip with her teeth, letting out a quiet growl.

“You want more?” he moaned, covering her hands with his and pinning them over her head.

He thrusted a few times - tentative, exploratory rolls of his hips, listening and feeling for any resistance.

She spread herself even further for him.

“More,” she panted, voice hoarse from her moans. “I want fucking more.”

Din hummed, sliding out of her before flipping her onto her stomach, gripping her hips backwards to smack against his pelvis.

“Din, gods,” she groaned, swaying her ass back to grind against his slick length.

He muttered swears under his breath as he lined himself up at her entrance, hissing as he pushed inside again. It felt so different from this angle - animalistic, unhinged, brutal. His hips slammed against hers, drawing wrecked, cracking moans out of her.

“So good to me,” he growled. “Maker, you are so fucking _wet..._ taking me— s- so well.”

His hand slapped across her ass, making her back arch, pushing her cunt harder against him as she throbbed in pure ecstasy.

Her deep moan crumbled into a tight squeal as his fingers found her clit.

“Shh—shit,” she choked. “Gonna cum again.”

Din gritted his teeth, stroking her as he continued his relentless thrusts.

“ _Do it,”_ he bellowed. “I’m close.”

She flattened her chest against the cool blankets, fucking herself back onto him, savoring the sound of him trying to control his release.

“Cum for me, _mesh’la_. I want to hear you.”

Her orgasm tore through her, fast and crashing this time, as she felt him withdraw to unleash thick streams of his spend over her lower back.

With a heavy exhale, he collapsed to the bed beside her, cradling her soaked body, unbothered by the slippery mess sliding between them.

Silently, they felt each other’s hearts slow and settle, combining into a steady beat - two clocks, falling into a shared rhythm, as unwavering as the inevitable passage of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music heavily inspires my writing - fanworks or otherwise. Here’s a playlist of the forty songs that have most influenced this fic.
> 
> [The River is Everywhere: The Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1Jo9ct6WRECA3uy0hbUD22?si=Nqtcm0xCSuO3VOAcfPG0vQ)


	8. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before meeting River, Din was busy stockpiling quarries, trying to rack up credits for his mission to find his foundling’s people. As their time in Canto Bight comes to a close, they will hit a crossroads. Will River stay or go? Is Din even ready to care for another, while also supporting his Clan of Two?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The final chapter of this first installment. I have a Part 2 roughly outlined, which will see more action and appearances by some other beloved characters!

“ _Ouch,_ shit!”

She jolted awake, rubbing her hand over the sharp pain stinging from the side of her head. The kid, snuggled into a pile of pillows beside her, proudly showed off the matted handful of her hair tangled in his claws. He prattled merrily at her, exposing a row of tiny white teeth.

“You little bugger,” she jokingly chided, unwinding the strands from his grasp.

“I think he missed you,” Din’s modulated voice rang behind her.

She twisted in the sheets, still naked, but covered by the luxuriously soft fabric. Din had replaced his helmet and armor, presumably to pick up the child. Amber light from the bedside lamp washed the space in a warm glow.

River loved how his armor seemed to reflect whatever their setting was, absorbing it and refracting it back into the world. He looked gentle here - softhearted despite his blaster-proof casing.

“What time is it?”

She didn’t remember falling asleep, and definitely hadn’t felt him get out of bed to fetch the kid.

“Just past 0300,” he replied. The modulation hid any sign of fatigue.

River turned her head back briefly to the baby. His wide eyes had already sealed shut, chest rising and falling steadily, as if her attention was all he needed to finally nod off.

It all felt so normal, though it really had no right to be considered such. A bounty hunter and two of his quarries, luxuriating on Canto Bight instead of traded in for credits? Insane.

She softly chuckled and immediately longed to have him back in bed with her, to feel the solid warmth of him next to her, anchoring her to reality. She needed real physical evidence that no, she wasn’t dreaming, and yes, she was really safe. For the first time in nearly two years, she was actually _safe._

She rolled over again, getting lost in the soft amber reflections of his beskar. _Din,_ she repeated in her mind. His name. How many knew him this way?

 _Din._ She cradled it close, holding the three letters in her chest protectively, as if they could crumble and fly like dust into the wind if she wasn’t careful.

“Will you lay with me?” she asked, quiet and pleading. Her deep brown eyes blinked sleepily at his silent, stoic form.

His pining sigh was too quiet under the helmet to be picked up by the vocal receiver. Silently, he nodded and rounded the foot of the bed, carefully scooping the child up from his resting place to be tucked in to his floating pram. Din closed the cover with a light tap to the controls.

Slipping into the refresher to strip off his outer layers, Din locked the door and took a deep breath. He took off his helmet, setting it on the countertop to stare at him, unblinking and cold.

Whenever another Mandalorian asked, he always took pride in saying he’d never removed his mask in front of any other being. His workarounds - darkness, blindfolds, sometimes blunt intimidation to _look the fuck away_ \- were justified in his mind. They allowed him a level of freedom without having to give up too much, without breaking the Creed. At least in his eyes.

The severe visor continued its stare as he undressed.

He thought about River, about how she’d been so free and open and trusting when they met, so ready to tell him everything about her. She’d been honest with him, telling him how she swore to the Unknown Regions and back that she’d never trust another man — and yet there she was, choosing blindly to trust in him, this nameless, faceless man of war and terror. It didn’t make sense to him, but did he care that it didn’t make sense?

He sighed.

She had something to gain from him, and she did gain it. But that wasn’t where it ended.

There was something else there - a connection point between them, a feeling he couldn’t explain, a tangling of their souls like the roots of two neighboring trees.

He gave her his name. So few had heard it. He’d dreamt about what it would be like to hear it said out loud, to have the heart of another know him like that, to show a shade of who he was before the armor. It felt… so vulnerable. Vulnerability was not a learned trait. It was not something he put into practice. Every part of him _screamed_ away vulnerability.

For now, he resolved, his name was all of him that he wanted to give to her.

The visor stared.

Maybe it was all he trusted himself to give her.

  
  


He emerged from the refresher in a pair of loose lounge pants and his whisper-soft undertunic. The helmet was back in place, feeling heavier when he had lifted it over his head. He wrestled with the feeling stirring in his stomach, the one that longed to say fuck it, to take it off, to show her all of him.

He stuffed that down as hard as he could.

River’s heart fluttered upon seeing him in something so casual. She sat up, letting the sheets pool around her hips, exposing her chest to the cooled air of the hotel room. Her eyes locked onto the deep scars marking his flesh, running in dark and light zig zags across all the places his armor couldn’t cover.

She looked down at her own scars, spotting along her forearms. Rhet’s words rang in her head, that she’d have to explain these away to any man she dared to be with after him.

Din hadn’t run away from it.

The bounty hunter climbed into the bed, stroking his bare hand through River’s hair to push it out of her eyes. The scent of him - the rock solid presence of him - overwhelmed her, prompting her to place her hands on his arms to steady herself.

Careful, reverent fingertips grazed along the pink jagged marks on his exposed skin, tracing them as sharp, unexpected tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“I want to kiss you so bad,” she whispered, barely audible. She bit her lip as he pressed her forehead to the top of his visor.

He stretched over to the bedside lamp, giving River’s cheeks a flush as she watched the muscles of his back flex with the motion. Instantly, they were cloaked in darkness again. She heard the faint sound of his helmet being set atop the console.

Moving slowly, Din lowered himself deeper into the sheets and blankets, reaching out to cradle River against his warm chest. Like magnets, their lips connected in the dark, fusing together to breathe devotion into each others’ lungs.

He couldn’t ever get enough of this. It scared him.

His hands ran over her body, beneath the silky bedding. Softness wrapped in softness.

River placed a chaste kiss to his inner bicep, where she could feel a particularly nasty ridge of scar tissue. Din’s breath caught in his throat, feeling her plush lips make contact.

She hoped she could convey all her gratitude, all her adoration and awe for this masked Mandalorian through her touch. In turn, he pressed his own lips to her forearm, peppering petal-soft kisses from wrist to elbow.

The tenderness nearly made her sob.

———

They floated in and out of sleep, waking gently to shift in their embrace, to cling to each other closer after drifting apart, to hear the muted rhythm of the other’s heart.

Several hours later, River stirred from a dream, feeling Din’s hot length pressed to her lower back, hard and pulsing. She just barely stretched against him, trying to gauge his reaction, as she drew his hands tighter around her midsection.

“Din…” she faintly whispered over her shoulder. “Are you awake?”

He roughly exhaled behind her, tickling her neck with his warm puff of air. 

“Yes,” he squeezed her closer, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the hollow of her neck.

She shivered, arching back into him.

“I’m finding it very hard to sleep,” he softly confessed, grinding his member in the cleft of her ass. “You make the sweetest sounds at night.”

He lazily rolled her nipple between his fingers, earning a tiny mewl.

“Just like that,” he breathed against her, rocking his hips in a steady pattern.

His broad hand travelled from her tight nipple to her mound, teasing over the skin just barely. River shuddered, chasing after his touch with her rolling hips.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, skimming the pad of his middle finger over her slit.

She was drenched. Her slick sweetness covered his fingers, sliding around her skin to coat the creases where her hips met her heat.

Reaching behind her, she wrapped her hand around his throbbing cock, still hidden by his thin lounge pants. A muffled groan vibrated against her shoulder blade.

“I want you,” she whispered, squeezing him and delivering a few short strokes, unable to really take hold at this impossible angle.

He nipped at her shoulder, pushing himself up into her hand, feeling his leaking pre-cum begin to soak into his pants.

“You have to be quiet,” he huffed against her skin, sending goosebumps shooting down her flesh. “The kid.”

River nodded wordlessly against him, moving her hand to try and pull his waistband low enough to free him.

Din drew a few tight circles against her clit, making her choke back a whine, before he removed his fingers.

“Fuck, River,” he hummed, pushing her hand aside as he pulled himself out of the loose pants.

He dragged his engorged tip along her folds, teasing her just barely. She brought his arm, the one curled under her torso, up to her head and buried her face in the crook of his elbow. She panted against him, digging her nails into the rich olive skin and coarse brown hair, feeling the scars there.

Knocking her knee up to wrap back around his legs, he positioned himself at her entrance and pushed inside, lazy and slow, relishing in the tight, wet squeeze of her sex.

She whimpered in relief and wound her body against the sheets, pushing herself further onto him, her walls fluttering around the smooth hardness of his cock.

“You feel—” she panted quietly with his first thrust, “ _s- so fucking good_.”

Din softly grunted, rolling out of her a few inches before plunging back in, guiding her hips with his free hand. Pressure pooled in her lower belly like molten metal, spreading liquid heat through her limbs.

“Touch yourself,” he whispered against her neck.

Her fingers pressed against her clit, rubbing firm patterns in time with his lazy thrusts. She was dizzy with it, losing herself in the sweeping current of his body on hers, his unfiltered voice in her ear.

His grip moved up to her breasts, pinching and squeezing as she curved her back to offer more of herself to his greedy hands. A louder moan tumbled out of the bottom of her throat.

Din’s hips stilled, snaking his palm up between her breasts to rest at the base of her neck, fanning out over the dip in the center of her collarbones. River’s fingers continued circling her clit, sending shockwaves through her lower body, making her shake and twitch around his thick cock, seated motionless inside her. He could feel her wild pulse under his hand.

“Shhh,” he teased, biting her ear. “Settle.” It only drove her deeper into maddened bliss.

He continued slowly fucking her, dragging his swollen head against her walls, building the pressure higher.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, swallowing another ragged moan.

Her head buried deeper into his folded arm as he released his hold on her throat, moving to replace her fingers with his on her hardened nub.

He punctuated his thrusts with barely audible promises.

“Never stopping, _cyar’ika_.”

Her mouth hung open in a silent scream as he kept spearing up into her.

“So fucking good to me.”

He was getting sloppier now, letting his grunts grow louder, his skin smack audibly against the plump roundness of her ass.

“Never leaving you,” he panted, curling the fingers of his crooked arm around River’s. “Ever.”

“ _Maker_ , Din, I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—”

Starlight erupted behind her eyes as she came, flooding her pussy as she clamped down on him, as if her body was unwilling to let go. Din crashed and crumpled into his own release, shooting heavy and thick and hot as he filled her. He panted her name mixed with breathy swears, flitting between Basic and Mando’a.

His cock stayed sheathed in her as they caught their breaths, unwinding in the wet warmth of their combined spend.

“Stay right here,” he whispered against her lips, planting a sweet kiss before pulling out and sliding to his side of the bed.

He stealthily replaced his helmet before flipping the console switch, letting the hum of the mechanical shades add an undercurrent of white noise to the room. Golden light dappled across the floor, spreading wider as the curtains raised, bathing everything in the warm orange glow of a brilliant sunrise.

He reappeared at River’s side with a damp towel, pulling the sheets back to clean the apex of her thighs. While he worked, she traced her fingers over his scars again, letting her mind reel over how each one was earned.

“How’s the one on your side?” she asked quietly, moving her hand to his ribcage.

It felt like so long ago already, when she was patching him up in the cargo hold as they sped towards Nar Shaddaa. His blood was crimson red against her skin, staining the spaces beneath her fingernails.

“It’s mostly healed. You did a good job.”

He pulled the washcloth away and ran a thumb over her chin.

“I’m— you’re very…” he stammered, struggling to find the word, “... _helpful._ You’ve been very helpful.”

He felt like a kriffing idiot saying some orbakshit like that. _Helpful?_ Fucking hells, she was more than that and he knew it. The slow bend of her lips into an understanding smirk showed him all he needed - she knew it too.

She had to.

———

Why was it any surprise to them that the kid liked ice cream?

His last few bites ran down his tiny arms, melting in the late afternoon sun as they sat on the artificial coastline, watching the pleasure yachts cruise across the glimmering water. River had brought a bundle of bath towels down from the hotel room, spreading them wide across the hot sand. She picked up the corner of one to wipe down the sticky, sweet mess from his green skin.

As gentle waves lapped at the shore, tiny worms would dive down into holes, popping back up to shimmy when the water receded. The child occupied himself playing peek-a-boo with them after finishing his frozen treat, clamping his tiny hands over the holes and laughing as they wiggled between his claws.

Din felt his heart grow lighter in his chest, his edges soften - melting like the kid’s frozen blue bantha treat.

River watched the yachts lift off from the water, hovering gracefully to disappear back inside the dry dock, forged into the cliffside. There were all sorts of models - long, sleek, and elegant; flashy with sweeping flourishes; rigid and modern. She envisioned herself at the helm of each, letting her music play loud over the whistling wind as she dropped the durasteel anchor.

“What’s on your mind?” Din asked, tilting his helmet to peek over at River. “You’re quiet.”

She gave him a bittersweet kind of grin.

“Just fantasizing,” she deflected.

He hummed, “I recall a dream you shared with me… something about captaining vessels like these.”

He was playing coy like he didn’t remember every single word she’d ever said to him. He had so casually suggested they come down to the water here, just to take a look, knowing she’d like it. He placed a broad, gloved hand on her knee, giving her a quick squeeze.

She relented and gave him a gentle eye roll.

“You see that stretched, pearlescent white one over there?” she pointed, squinting in the golden sunlight. “She’s gorgeous. I’d land that girl over a lake on Naboo and just… I don’t know, kriffing take a nap, I guess. Smell the flowers.”

She shifted, curling a leg up under herself, letting her thoughts drift.

“Or that one,” she pointed the further south down the horizon, “the smaller grey one, _real_ sexy.”

She flitted her gaze over to Din, letting the glimmering light from the moving waves sparkle in her eyes

“A bit more my style,” she winked, returning her attention to the ship. “See that flat, open-air deck on the front?”

He nodded.

“I could make great use of that sunbathing, anchored offshore somewhere. Have you been to Spira? I hear they have a nude beach,” she pursed her lips suggestively, raising an eyebrow at him. “I could just… stretch out over that deck, bake in the sun… jump in the water when it got too hot.”

She sighed and returned her sights to the kid, laughing and hopping around in the shallow waves.

“You and I couldn’t be more different,” she said softly.

Din stared at her from under the helmet, glad that she couldn’t see his face.

“How?” he asked. He had a list of at least two dozen ways they were polar opposites, and only a small few similarities. But he wanted to hear her take.

She licked her lips, facing him again on the towel.

“You live to work,” she said resolutely, brows steeled and sure. “And I say, _fuck_ that. Life isn’t about work.”

She couldn’t see the dumbass grin under his helmet.

“What’s it about then?”

River’s eyes bored into his helmet in a way he’d grown so attached to, so familiar with. He could practically hear the biting sass and the hardened wisdom rising in her, meeting in the middle like two dueling tsunamis. His breath stilled, silencing in anticipation of her answer.

The kid dropped a wiggling sea worm right in her lap and babbled loudly, beaming up at her like a proud little fisherman.

“Is this for me?” she cooed down at him, stroking his fuzzy head.

He bobbed up and down, clapping his hands together excitedly before dashing back to the shoreline for more. River raised the slippery worm between her and Din, watching it flip and twist in the salted air.

She peered around the creature at his faceless mask.

“I’ll let you know when I figure it out,” she quipped, letting a soft smile twitch up her cheek.

Placing the worm back atop the wet sand, they watched as it slithered back into its home, dancing and playing in the waves with the others.

———

The bath was Din’s idea. Totally necessary after that blue bantha mess and the worm shenanigans.

It was River’s idea to make it fun.

A mountain of bubbles domed over the edges, shifting like a low-hanging cloud as she and the kid played in the warm water. She kept on her basic underwear and simple cotton bra for lack of owning a real swimsuit, while the child splashed around stark naked, waiting on his brown coat to dry out on the windowsill.

River collected handfuls of bubbles, molding them on top of the kid’s head, careful of his eyes and ears. The sounds of their laughter and sloshing water echoed past the closed refresher door, giving Din something to listen to as he scarfed down a plate of food.

He fucking hated that he wasn’t in there. He resigned to rushing through his meal, trying to get it over with as quickly as possible. It was a sin, shoveling this delicious, freshly prepared food down his gullet with the speed of a racing fathier. He devoured it so fast that the taste of the perfectly seasoned fillet didn’t even register; it was just calories consumed.

Chucking the empty plate into the hallway for the service droid to pick up, he swiftly replaced his helmet and entered the refresher. River had her hands floating just beneath the kid’s back, acting as a safety net while he floated supine on the water’s surface.

“Woohoo! You’re doing it!”

He looked towards her to celebrate, accidentally bobbing down too far and getting a little mouthful of suds. She scooped him up and scratched the top of his head as he coughed and sputtered.

“Your son is a natural in here,” she announced over her shoulder. “You sure he wasn’t raised by Gungans before you took him in?”

His son. It was still weird to hear that word. He never thought it was in the cards for him. He’d been quick to have a contraceptive implant installed after taking up his profession, knowing he couldn’t be the present father he’d need to be.

But Din was a foundling once. And now he had one in his care.

He kneeled beside the tub, resting an arm along the slippery edge.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” he said, sounding a little melancholy. “I’m only his guardian until I can reunite him with his people, or until he is of age… though I’m not sure how that works.”

He paused, watching the child paddle towards him with great effort. River tilted her head quizzically.

“He’s fifty.”

She reeled backwards slightly, wide eyes blinking in disbelief.

“Wait…” she said softly.

Din nodded. “Stinky little womp rat’s quite the mystery.”

River subtly shook her head, trying to process this bizarre piece of information. The baby clung to Din’s gloved finger, kicking his stubby legs to make tiny waves beneath the layer of bubbles.

“After I unload that rack full of bounties, I’m taking a few months off to do some searching,” he said. “Try to learn more about him.”

The kid blinked up at Din as if he was the shiny silver ball River had seen him play with so often aboard the Crest. Kinda made sense, she guessed. Shiny and silver - his favorites.

“Do you have any clues about where he’s from? Anything to go off of?”

River’s brows were knit together in a way he’d seen before - when she was curious and unsure, looking to him for answers. He didn’t have any to give her this time. It was a feeling he wasn’t used to.

Din shook his head. The three of them sat in silence for a moment, swishing the water absentmindedly with their hands.

“Little bud’s all water-logged,” he finally said, lifting the kid’s pruny body out of the now lukewarm bath. “Why don’t you… run that water again,” he rumbled, motioning towards the bath, “and I’ll come join you.”

River broke into a wide smile, partially hidden by her involuntary chewing of her lip. One more time, Din felt like the blue bantha ice cream, melting steadily in the refresher’s balmy humidity.

“I like the way you think,” she hummed, syrupy smooth and incredibly sexy.

A few minutes later, the kid was down for a nap, set up in his pram facing the holoprojector. Din returned and saw River dipped below a steaming tub full of water. Any details were just barely blurred, moderately concealed beneath the milky surface.

He’d never actually seen her naked. He only had his touch and his imagination to go off of.

The T of his helmet stared at her, intimidating and appraising, as he silently removed each piece of his heavy beskar armor. Bit by bit, his outer layers were shed, placed carefully on the polished stone countertop, until he stood before her in his canvas flightsuit and thick combat padding.

“Close your eyes.”

His voice was lower than normal, scraping the lowest levels of his already deep baritone, dragging against the rocky bottom of his lungs. River obeyed, sealing her eyes shut, placing two wet hands over them to avoid any question or temptation.

Din slipped off his helmet, taking a deep breath - deeper and fuller it seemed than any breath he’d ever taken. His shaking hands removed the rest of his clothes, without the hindrance of his bulky helmet.

When he was finally nude - fully exposed, with nothing to protect him - he replaced his helmet and dipped his foot into the water, coming to stand in the tub. River stirred, keeping her hands on her face, making room for him as her lips parted.

“You can open your eyes,” he said, modulated voice echoing off the tiled stonework.

River slid her hands down, leaving a glistening trail of bath water along her skin. Her large, brown eyes grew impossibly wider, taking in his naked form before her. The scars she’d studied early that morning extended down to his obliques, slicing up the unarmored sides of his thighs, pitting the skin of his shins and calves. Everywhere had a mark and a story, every imperfection telling her a history he hadn’t vocalized.

She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by his movement. He sunk down to his knees, jostling the water’s surface, bringing River between his strong legs. He settled her there, straddling her with her back resting against his chest. The cold press of his helmet to her neck made her gasp.

“I’m sorry I can’t…” his voice was shaky, trembling and unsure, even through the layer of modulation, “... _can’t_ give you more of me.” He swallowed thickly, “This is all I can give you.”

She shivered just slightly, struggling to fight the full body tremors that wanted to overtake every part of her. His arms wrapped around her below the water.

“It— it’s okay,” she shook.

A heavy breath rattled through him. His hands moved to draw mindless patterns across her skin, leaving clinging beads of water in his wake.

“I’m setting course for Nevarro tomorrow,” his voice reverberated through her. “But not before you tell me where you want to go.”

River took a breath, relaxing back into his broad chest with her exhale.

“I’m perfectly fine right here,” she sighed.

Din tensed beneath her. “I mean where you want to settle. Where you intend to start over.”

She froze in place. He could feel the pulsing rhythm of her heart hammering against her ribs.

“What do you mean?” Her voice cut like ice.

A breath pushed past his vocoder, staticky and grating. “I’m giving you the reward from you and Rhet’s capture. It’s three thousand credits.”

Her breath halted in her chest.

“You t-tell me where you want to settle,” he choked out, voice stumbling over the words, “and I’ll take you there.”

She didn’t want to fucking cry. Heavy tears jumped from her eyes without warning, jettisoning themselves off the ledges of her lower eyelids.

“So you want me gone? That’s it?”

She turned in the tub to face him - naked but for the shining silver helmet. Her wet, wide eyes darted around every line and curve of the beskar. Din’s heart clenched into a tight fist, harder and colder than the Mandolarian iron he wore as a second skin.

River looked just like the day he picked her up - scared, with a blazing wildfire roaring beneath the surface. He’d stayed with her here, and showed her the dancehall last night, in the hopes that this could be a planet she might like. It wasn’t the safest option, but… its offerings aligned with her interests, with what she wanted.

Or at least, what he thought she wanted.

“No,” he softly protested, struggling to conceal the helpless wobble in his voice. “You can make your life whatever you want it to be. You deserve more.”

 _More than me_. More than living on an outdated ship, more than a life with no comforts, more than the danger he constantly had to escape to protect the kid. The unspoken words caught in his throat, never escaping the cage of his mouth.

“Stars,” she faltered, shaking her head, “you really have no fucking clue.”

Her eyes continued their relentless drilling into his visor, a direct hit, point fucking blank straight into his soul.

“Wh—”

She cut him off, placing strong hands against the far points of his shoulders.

“Why would I want to be anywhere else than with you?” she asserted, blinking through the heavy tears.

He felt himself crumbling, losing grip of the usual strength and composure he held, the distance he placed between himself and the rest of the galaxy.

A hard tap against the side of his helmet startled him, pausing the rapid liquidization of his entire nervous system.

“Is this shit really that thick?” she scoffed through her tears, streaming together with the rolling droplets of tub water on her cheeks. “You’re not getting rid of me.”

“But—”

“Din, _no,”_ she pressed. His hands came up to circle around her forearms, stroking up and down her scarred skin.

“You said it yourself,” her eyes sparkled briefly with the wittiness and fire he knew her for, “I’m _helpful._ ”

He sighed into a painfully wide grin, the kind that crinkles the sides of your eyes and pushes your cheeks against your ears. He tilted his forehead to press the impenetrable beskar against her damp skin.

“I did say that,” he relented.

“So I’ll keep being helpful,” she raised her chin. “Watching the kid. Helping with the ship. Soldering your open wounds shut.”

She shrugged, like it was the most sensible, straightforward thing in the galaxy.

And wasn’t it?

He cared for her. And she cared for him.

And finally, for once, for one single, seemingly endless moment since he swore the Creed, he felt more comfortable laid bare and wrapped in naked devotion than protected behind the armor.

She didn’t mention what he’d said earlier that morning, the words that came throttling past his lips, hurtling themselves from his lungs as intensely as a hyperspace jump —

_Never leaving you._

_Ever._

He had never said a word he didn’t mean. And that wasn’t changing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO MUCH for taking the time to read and comment on this little fic.
> 
> While you’re here, I also posted a smutty one-shot yesterday featuring Poe Dameron getting down with a female reader. Check my page if you’re interested!


	9. Bonus Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Society as a whole is crumbling. Here’s some smut to forget about it for a brief moment. No plot, no progression, just fuckery.
> 
> This picks up immediately after the last scene of Part One of this series. Also, I am absolutely lit off white wine, which will explain any errors.

“The next several weeks aren’t going to be easy,” he sighed.

His cupped palms poured handfuls of warm, soapy water over her shoulders, watching the rivulets roll down her collarbone and over the curves of her breasts. He’d only gotten a brief look early that morning, when he’d climbed back into bed after getting the kid from the childcare center. She was incredibly beautiful, the kind of woman you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, and her chest was no exception. His fingers drifted down to skim the plump flesh.

River curled backwards to rest against his chest again, settling in between Din’s legs. His touch moved around her, getting a little braver, gripping the weight of her breast with one hand while the other laid wide across her stomach.

“We’ll figure it out,” she exhaled smoothly, feeling herself sink even further into the warmth of his skin.

“There will be many dangers.”

She laid her head back against his shoulder. The cool press of his beskar helmet wasn’t as jarring as usual, having warmed in the steamy air wafting off the surface of the bath. Condensation clung to the surface, culling its usual shine.

“The Unknown Regions are not easily navigated,” he continued, still mindlessly drawing patterns against her cleavage, running his fingertips down the flat plane of her sternum. “It’s going to be challenging at times.”

She hummed, deep and raspy. “Then thank the stars we can relax for a few more hours, yeah?”

Din let out a little chuckle. “Okay,” he squeezed her closer. “Point taken. I’ll brief you on everything on the way to Nevarro.”

That really made River laugh.

“ _Brief_ me? What are you, my commanding officer?”

“ _No_ ,” he scoffed, quick to respond. “I want you to be safe. I want you to be prepared… just as prepared as I am.”

His hand snaked down lower, tracing the inside of her thighs below the water.

“Though if it turns you on to call me Commander…” he rumbled, low and sensual.

She pretended not to let the teasing affect her.

“Well,” she quipped, “I’d have to know your last name for that.”

“It’s Djarin.”

Like a lovesick fool, her first mush-brained thought was how that would sound next to her name, how it would roll off her tongue when she introduced herself. _River Djarin_. It sounded like something out of a nature holovid, like a serene stream rolling down a green hill on some quiet, peaceful planet.

“Commander Djarin,” she purred, making her voice overtly seductive, before falling into a soft chuckle. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” She could hear the scheming smile in his voice. “What about this?”

He pushed her thighs wide under the water to rest against his open legs, splayed on either side of her in the tub. With a feather soft touch, he ran the pads of his fingers along her folds, making her core tingle with want.

“Do you like this?” he rasped quietly, sending goosebumps down her arms.

She let out a tiny moan. “Yes, Commander Djarin.”

She felt him shudder under her back, cock twitching against her ass. Din’s touch moved up to her clit, rubbing quick little circles against it, swirling her sensitive skin beneath his index and middle fingers. Her eyes sealed shut tight as she bit her lip.

“What about this?”

His voice was so dark, dripping with danger and power. River trembled in his grasp, fighting back the urge to wiggle herself back onto his cock, spear herself down onto him right there in the tub.

“F-ffuck— yeah,” she squealed, unprepared for how fucking fast and focused his touch was. “Yes, Commander.”

He growled, continuing his circling on her clit. Under this kind of attention, and at this pace, she was going to be cumming in _seconds._

“ _Filthy_ little thing,” he spat.

His words came out rough and husky, grating against his modulator. The hand across her chest came up to her neck, carefully pressing his thumb below her jaw. He could feel her gasping for air under his hand, the frenetic pulsing of her overheated veins. She rocked her hips against him, sputtering out a broken moan.

“ _P-please_ ,” she whimpered. “Your cock, _please_.”

Din inhaled sharply and slipped a finger inside her, holding it motionless in her heat, somehow hotter than the steaming water, clutching her twitching body even tighter to him.

“ _What_ was that?”

Her whole body convulsed, letting out a ragged, keening mewl.

“Gods, Din,” she heaved. “ _Please_ fuck me.”

He slid another finger inside her, wrenching a wicked sound from deep in her stomach.

“No,” he barked, sliding his fingers up into her with incredible speed, making sloshing waves ripple through the bath water as he plunged in and out.

He could feel her crumbling, pressed urgently against him, his body wrapped around hers in possession and protection, ready to both claim her pleasure and catch her fall in equal parts.

Her orgasm hit her like a sudden drop out of hyperspace - fast, careening, urgent, totally disorienting. She felt his hand around her throat fly up to her mouth, muffling and strangling her wild moaning back into her throat, letting the sound reverberate and rattle the spaces between her ribs. Her walls were clamping and spasming around his fingers harder than he’d ever felt, enough to make him feel like if given the chance, she’d never let him go.

As she began coming down, he slid out of her, teasing her clit with a ghost of a touch, smirking deviously beneath his helmet as every liquefying muscle of her body suddenly jolted and went rigid, her teeth nipping into his hand over her mouth.

“You know what?” he whispered against her neck, his deep breaths grating against the filter of his helmet.

She squealed out some high-pitched, stifled sound.

“I’m not done making you come yet.”

His fingers kept up their feather-light circling around her clit, watching her reaction as he pulled back or pressed more purposefully. He could see her eyebrows knit together, feel her hands grip tighter around his spread legs. Her hips started rolling, chasing after his fingers beneath the water’s surface.

He fucking had her.

His hand slipped down from her mouth, going down to tweak a nipple, flicking and pinching the pebbled pink bud.

“Are you gonna be my good girl?”

His voice was so fucking deep, so dizzyingly husky and sure and all _hers,_ whispering filth in her ear as he effortlessly shifted her higher between his legs, reaching down to press the length of his cock up against her pulsing core.

“Come for me one more time,” he breathed, dragging his cock along her slit in emphasis, “and I’ll give you what you want.”

She shuddered and groaned against his chest, rocking herself back and forth along his shaft, desperate for him to fill her.

“One more, _cyar’ika.”_

Her nails dug into the firm muscle of his legs, squeezing as she stilled in anticipation of the onslaught. Everything pulled up tight, drawing in towards the rigid curve of her spine, concentrating and intensifying until she broke again, yelping and thrashing as her second orgasm hit her, brighter and faster and higher than the first, drawn out of her by the deft trigger fingers of this deadly Mandalorian.

“Good girl… _good girl_ ,” he whispered, nuzzling into the crook of her neck, letting her ride out her aftershocks as her body slowly unwound, relaxing flush against his skin.

“Fuck, Din, oh my gods—” she panted, head rolling back to clunk against the bottom lip of his helmet.

“Let’s get you out of this water.”

She gulped in a desperate breath of air, opening her mouth to protest as she tried grinding herself forward and down onto his length.

“Hey,” he warned, grabbing her by the upper arms, so easily slipping back into the intimidating tone he’d started with. “I’m going to give you what you asked for, _meshla._ Get on the floor.”

She whimpered some vulnerable, pleading nonsense and rose on shaky legs out of the tub, reaching out to Din for support as she carefully climbed over the ledge. The water poured off of their bodies, puddling on the smooth tiled floor and soaking into the plush rug he directed her onto.

“Hands and knees,” he ordered, cool and calm.

He watched as she lowered herself before him, ass raised up in presentation and covered in goosebumps as the cold air shocked them. River peeked over her shoulder, biting her lip as she saw Din kneel behind her, appraising her almost reverently, running his wet hands across the equally wet expanse of her back and rear, massaging down to her thighs and parting her pink folds. She shivered under his touch, arching her back to give him more of her. He brought one hand up to her mouth, spreading his palm wide in front of her.

“Spit.”

River let a devious grin spread hot and unhurried across her face, reveling in this dominant, vulgar side of Din she’d only seen in light shades. She spit, coating his palm in slickness, different and stickier than the bath water, using her tongue to spread it along every cracked line and rough blaster burn of his hand. He growled behind her, delivering a firm smack against the plump curve of her ass, sending water droplets flying. She bucked back against him in response.

“Fucking _shameless_ ,” he roared, bringing his slicked palm back to his iron hard member, lubricating the smooth skin.

He grunted into his slippery fist, gripping himself as he rubbed his tip against River’s opening. She shook and whined against him, impatient and burning with the need to be claimed, to feel him bury himself inside her.

Finally, _finally_ he pushed forward, hissing out heated breath as he split her open, watching the flushed skin of his shaft disappear inch by inch into her glistening hole. When he was seated to the root, he snaked a broad hand up the dip of her spine, twisting into her wave of damp, black hair. He pulled it taught, drawing her body up to meet his as he curved himself over her, pressing his helmet to her cheek.

“Is this what you wanted, River?”

He pounded into her, a cacophony of soaked skin on skin echoing against the smooth stone tiles, a steady staccato beat that drove them both deeper into rabid lust. Her upper body was failing her, slumping like dead weight back towards the floor, overcome with the delicious thickness of his cock, the low rumble of his voice, the fucking relentless and _strong_ thrusting that threatened to rattle her brain loose.

“Answer me, _cyare_.”

She sucked a desperate mouthful of air into her chest, feeling it get fucked right out of her before it could reach the base of her lungs.

“ _Yes-ss_ , wanted it so _bad_ ,” she blubbered, her words getting forced out of her throat in uneven volume and cadence, thrown off their path by the brutal slam of his hips.

Din lightened his grip on her hair, lowering her carefully back to the rug without losing his rhythm, pressing her torso against the soft material as she arched up to meet his thrusts. He palmed at her ass, spreading her cheeks apart to watch himself slide in and out, gripping into the muscle to drag her back along his cock with each movement.

She was being so unabashedly loud - howling and groaning enough to wake up the entire hotel, probably the entire fucking parsec.

He didn’t give a shit. This was all that mattered.

“Can’t get enough of your pussy,” he grunted, dizzy with need, digging his fingers into her ass hard enough to bruise. “Wanna make you fucking— make you cum for me every d-day ... f-f-forever.”

Her whole body was thrumming, still so high from her orgasms in the tub, losing herself being driven hard and fast over another ledge, spread open like this for Din to take and use and _worship_.

He hurriedly withdrew, flipping her body over to face him before slamming himself right back into her tight core, drilling down into her and hitting a spot that she swore turned her bones to ash.

“Gonna— fuck you— _everywhere_ on my ship,” he snarled, pinning her leg back to pound even deeper. “You’re _mine.”_

River wailed, wanting to squeeze her eyes shut but holding out as hard as she could, taking in the incredible sight of him naked from the neck down, glossed in warm water and her juices. She clawed at his chest and torso, unveiled for her and her alone, silently begging him to lean closer to her.

He obliged, curving forward to press his helm against her cheek, letting her hear every natural, ragged breath he took, mixed in with the synthetic static pushing through the speaker. River clung closer to him, burying her face in his shoulder, squeezing and rocking beneath him as she felt it all rise up again inside her lower belly.

“Fuck, are you—” he shuddered.

She gasped and nodded and pulled him closer, bearing down on his cock. “ _Don’t stop.”_

With every thrust, he felt her tighten around him, her walls quaking and pulsing as she sobbed against his neck, shaking uncontrollably into her third orgasm. It tore into her, unrefined energy screaming up the sides of her body.

She could hear Din cracking beneath the beskar, his fractured moans crashing past the filter before he pulled back and out, fisting himself over her torso.

A shaky roar erupted from his chest, heaving as his exertion gave way to release, cum shooting out of him thick and fast and hot, coating River’s flushed skin. He knelt back on his heels as she watched it roll down her sides, pool in her bellybutton, glint and glimmer under the lights of the refresher.

Din swiped two fingers through his spend, smearing it across the calloused skin before plunging them into River’s mouth, savoring her satisfied moan as she licked and sucked him clean.

“So…” she hummed around his knuckles, sliding her tongue over them suggestively as he withdrew. “What spot is first on your list?”

Din exhaled roughly, drawing back as River laboriously sat upright on the rug, her legs still thrown around the breadth of his kneeling thighs.

“Well, there’s a stop I have to make first, after Nevarro, but—”

River cut him off, placing a hand on either side of his neck. She shook her head with a tiny smirk.

“I _mean_ where you plan to fuck me first. On your ship.”

Din chuckled beneath his helmet, expelling a hot breath of air as he wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her into him lovingly.

“Wherever you want me, _cyare._ Your turn to pick.

River’s mind reeled, a frenzied mess of imagined scenes - her bent over the cockpit’s console, spread wide on the edge of his bunk, bouncing on him on a chair in the common room.

She bit her lip over a wide grin.

“Din Djarin… you are _done for_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I’m working from home essentially indefinitely, I hope I’ll have more time to write. Remember to check back here for Part 2 of this series, or hit the User Subscribe button (or whatever the hell) to stay updated! We’re all in this together!
> 
> \---  
> EDIT: March 28, 2020  
> Part Two is LIVE!!!! If you liked this story, please continue there. Part Two has lots of twists and turns planned, plus all the fluff and smut we love from these two idiots.


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